


common love isn't for us

by purpletulips



Category: ONEUS (Band)
Genre: High School AU, M/M, Recreational Drug Use, Underage Drinking, how many hsm references are too many hsm references?, no sex sorry prompter oomf :(, then college au, there are a lot of cameos, they're theater kids
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-10-02
Updated: 2020-10-02
Packaged: 2021-03-07 16:40:37
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 28,575
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/26770798
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/purpletulips/pseuds/purpletulips
Summary: Hwanwoong intends to walk into adult life with renewed focus, to work on his career and not be swayed by foolish affections. What he gets, instead, is a raging, butterfly-inducing crush on two of his closest friends, who are currently dating eachother.
Relationships: Kim Geonhak | Leedo/Lee Seoho, Kim Geonhak | Leedo/Lee Seoho/Yeo Hwanwoong, Kim Geonhak | Leedo/Yeo Hwanwoong, Lee Seoho/Yeo Hwanwoong
Comments: 26
Kudos: 74
Collections: WEUS Harvest Moon Fest





	common love isn't for us

**Author's Note:**

> or, alternatively, hwanwoong discovers the good parts of making yourself vulnerable through almost 30k!  
> hello, friends!!! LAST DAY OF POSTING!! isn't it exciting... can't wait to read everything you amazing people have written.  
> with that being said, disclaimers:  
> — written for plot #71: "hwanwoong has had a crush on geonhak and seoho for the longest time. the only problem is, they’re already dating each other! hwanwoong has accepted that there was no chance the guys he liked were polyamorous, until one day his best friend keonhee decides to meddle."  
> — i fell in love with it immediately considering this is one of my long time fav 1us trios. hwanwoongie and his two crushes! SICK. i hope i didn't steer away from it too much :(  
> — there are a lot of cameos because i meant to make things more realistic!! and depict hs/uni as i grew to know it!! and they're not even too relevant plot wise but if that bothers you i'm leaving the warning out there  
> — underage drinking warning is bc hw drinks while in high school. there's generally a lot of alcohol involved lol the recreational drug use is barely mentioned (eating edibles) but i thought i'd throw that in as a warning

Hwanwoong isn’t one to catch feelings easily. 

While his friends were easily swayed by crushes during middle school, he stood there, skeptical and focused on improving his dancing skills. He couldn’t say he didn’t have time for childish infatuation, because he was a teenager and spent too much time at home doing nothing, but he wasn’t interested in his peers as much as in his future.

Here’s how it happens for the first time — he’s a high school freshman and he wants to join the theater club. Passionate sophomore Saebom is their choreographer, friendly junior Haeyoon is their vocal coach and composer, Chahee writes their scripts and kind senior Youngjo directs them. They make plays every six months and present them in one of the school auditoriums for anyone who might be interested. 

Even though their crowds are quite big, this doesn’t reflect on their popularity. Most people make fun of them, especially of the male actors, in a subtle way that can’t be called bullying but is mean and mocking regardless. Hwanwoong, on the other hand, loves their plays, and when he sees his classmates Seungkwan and Hansol rehearsing for the auditions he makes sure to do the same.

They get accepted, together with Soojin and Soyeon who were new to their school, and they’re immediately taken under the wing of their upperclassmen.

Haeyoon gives Seungkwan the warmest welcome, seeing potential in his natural flair for the dramatics and his powerful voice. Saebom latches onto Soojin, who is admittedly a great dancer, and makes it a personal project to make her come out of her shell. Chahee dotes on Hansol despite not being that much older than him and Youngjo seems to be considering giving the director role to Soyeon after he graduates.

Hwanwoong doesn’t feel dejected, though, because he finds solace and crooked guidance going by the name of Lee Seoho.

“This isn’t going to work,” Seoho says, propped up on his elbow. The shirt he's wearing is way too small for his body, considering it's now showing a bit of his stomach as he lies down across the stage. For a high school student who engages in theater during his free time, he's fit.

Not that Hwanwoong should be noticing these things, but well. It was right on his face. He's only human.

Anyways, the club is putting up a new play, some sort of modern take on Snow White, Youngjo is really enthusiastic about casting people who will fit their roles perfectly. Hwanwoong, of course, wants to audition for the lead role, because he wants lines and attention and a way to prove himself. 

Except Seoho is insisting he should play the villain instead. "Suits your dramatics better," he justifies himself, unwavering "The songs suit your performing style better, your voice. Are you familiar with High School Musical?"

Hwanwoong raises his eyebrows, lets out a scoff. "I'm a theater kid millennial. What do you think?"

He'd usually be hesitant about arguing with an upperclassman like this, wouldn't be openly mocking, teasing. But Seoho is nothing but comfortable, approachable, and he's one of the original members of the club. He doesn't have a main role, instead he's an all-rounder, filling in if anyone from the main creative team is absent or needs an extra pair of hands. 

"Good, then," Seoho continues "Remember the third movie? Where Sharpay wants Gabriella's part, mostly for the attention?"

"I'm _Sharpay_?" Hwanwoong shrieks.

Seoho nods. "Yes, you are. And if you don't go and put on your Sharpay shoes you'll get your role stolen from you by your assistant."

"You're so full of shit," Hwanwoong laughs, grabs the script and looks at it. The villain has a decent amount of dialogue, a solo song and a duet, both with impressive choreo. Admittedly, the lead role could better suit someone less prone to, um, excessiveness.

Seoho lies there, brown hair falling on his eyes, a wide grin plastered across his face. It's morning so the sunlight coming from the window hits him prettily, making him glow. Hwanwoong feels his chest getting tighter, squeezing his beating heart.

So, yeah. That's how it happens.

Hwanwoong sighs. "Run me over the bad guy's lines, again?"

...

Turns out, Hwanwoong _is_ Sharpay.

Sohee, who was in charge of outfits, gives him a tightly fit, clean, regal costume, and it makes him feel more at peace about losing the Snow White role to Hansol. He works harder than anyone at rehearsals, has his lines memorized three days after getting his hands on the script. Saebom and Haeyoon wear him out with the dancing and the singing, but Youngjo thinks he's perfect for the job, acting-wise. Seoho mouths _I told you so_ , eyes sparkling.

When the day comes, he makes an amazing evil king, to the point where his solo gets standing ovations and the school newspaper writes a section about him. 

Hwanwoong knows this because Seoho buys a copy and slams it on Hwanwoong's desk right before his Math class starts.

Seoho is grinning, because of course he is. "Impressive debut. An unforgettable villain. None of these would've happened if it wasn't for his brilliant senior, Lee Seoho, who insisted on him taking the right path."

"This isn't your class," Hwanwoong says, already smiling back like an idiot "And I'm sure that last part isn't written on paper."

"Just came by to say hi to my favorite freshman," Seoho says, loftily "You'll stop questioning my genius from now on?"

"I won't," Hwanwoong replies "That's why you like me."

He immediately realizes how this could be interpreted wrong and freezes, waiting for a reproach. 

Instead, Seoho winks at him. "Right. Never change, Sharpay." 

It's ridiculous, because Hwanwoong is a very realistic person. He knows it's just easy banter, teetering on the edge of flirting but not quite getting there enough to be serious. He knows Seoho likes him, platonically - likes him as an actor, as a performer, as a freshman who has potential. Maybe even as a person, but in the same way you'd feel fond of your best friend's younger brother.

Yet, despite how badly he wants to rationalize it, his heart flutters.

...

“You’re staring,” Soyeon deadpans, fiddling with her nail file, her facial expression reading boredom as she looked up at the stage.

Youngjo decided to go for something rougher, harder to act than what they usually do for their winter play, a sort of Game of Thrones rehash. He was picky with the casting and made sure to only choose their most experienced actors for the job — which includes Seoho and his childhood friend Hyojin. They were currently shirtless, rehearsing a fight scene.

Hence Hwanwoong’s not-so-dignified panic. “Of course I’m fucking staring,” he croaks out, feeling lightheaded “How are you not staring?”

Soyeon scoffs. “Not my type.”

“No, I know,” Hwanwoong says, averts his eyes from the stage despite his previous words, because they started rolling around on the floor and he doesn’t think he can take it “But not even like, aesthetically?”

“Doesn’t do anything for me,” Soyeon laughs “Sorry for your loss, buddy.”

Hwanwoong feels sorry for himself, too. 

He doesn’t have much of a role on this play, so being here isn’t required of him. The freshmen were welcome to stay if they wanted to help with overall stage preparations, but their presence was completely optional. Hwanwoong could’ve spared himself the mortifying ordeal that is to witness his crush getting physical with another objectively hot guy. His friends were all there — which theater kid would pass up the opportunity of seeing fierce sword fights and dramatic monologues, with sexy styling to boot? — but he could use the free time to do literally anything else.

Except he won’t, because Seoho asked him to come, to encourage him and help him memorize his lines, and he’s stupid and weak and hormonal and he really needs to go to the bathroom.

Youngjo interrupts them. “Okay, you guys, let me stop you there.”

Seoho turns to the director’s direction, his eyes wide, his brown hair messily pointing everywhere. He seems awfully self-conscious, and Hwanwoong wants to shake him by the shoulders and tell him how fantastic he looks, and he has nothing to be shy of.

Then lick his shoulder blades. Whatever.

“Listen, it’s getting there. Hyojinnie, great job as usual,” Youngjo says, smiles kindly at the redhead “Seoho, I feel like you’re still kind of in your head. It wasn’t bad! Not bad! But you know what I’m talking about, don’t you?”

“I do,” Seoho says, staring at his feet “I’m sorry, everyone.”

“It’s alright!” Hyojin tries to brighten up his friend’s mood “He said we’re getting there. You’ve already said you wanted to beat the shit out of me so many times, now’s the perfect opportunity.”

Seoho mumbles something that makes Hyojin laugh and pat his back. “Can we take fifteen, boss?”

“Sure! Let’s all take a break,” Youngjo says, reaching for his backpack and unwrapping what looks like a McDonald's sandwich. 

Hwanwoong’s stomach rumbles, reminding him that his lunch at the cafeteria was not enough to satisfy his hunger. He’s discussing cheaper snack options he could order on delivery apps with Soojin and Seungkwan when Seoho walks up to him, hands on his pockets, wearing a black T-shirt ten times his size. “Hey. Can I talk to you outside?”

“Okay,” Hwanwoong breathes out without thinking twice, which is very pathetic of him.

Seungkwan bites his lower lip to suppress a grin. He doesn’t quite achieve his goal, still looks very amused. “What about the food?”

“Order anything you want,” Hwanwoong says, puts his phone on Soojin’s lap “ _You_ order anything you want. Seungkwan doesn’t know how to act with credit cards, and my mom’s gonna kill me if I fuck up her limit again.”

Soojin raises her eyebrows, but doesn’t have much of a reaction otherwise. “Pizza okay?”

Hwanwoong flashes her a thumbs-up as he scrambles to follow Seoho, who was already on his way out of the auditorium. His heart is beating painfully slow against his ribcage, each beat a squeeze on his chest. Liking people is odd, inconvenient, and he doesn’t like it.

“So… What happened?” he asks softly.

Seoho smiles weakly at him. “I think I’m gonna give up.”

Hwanwoong’s face falls. “Huh?”

“I can’t get this right during rehearsals,” Seoho mutters, downcast “We only have like, a month? And this is one of the first scenes. I’m gonna fuck it up.”

“It’s also one of the hardest scenes,” Hwanwoong points out, rationally, despite how much he wants to hold the older boy in his arms and kiss him until he realizes his talent and potential “If you nail it, the rest is gonna be a breeze. You just need to forget yourself up there.”

“I don’t know if I can forget myself just like that, Hwanwoong,” Seoho admits, and if you were an unknowing passerby listening to him, you’d think he wasn’t much bothered by it, simply stating a fact. However, Hwanwoong prides himself in having learned how to read some of the idiosyncrasies of Lee Seoho. He’s lost, insecure, sounds a little broken, despite what his detached manners might imply.

Hwanwoong sighs. “Look at me. Do you trust me?”

Seoho nods firmly.

It makes something stir in Hwanwoong’s chest, again. “Do you think I’d lie to you about this? Put our reputation at stake just to soothe your ego?”

Seoho shakes his head. 

They don’t break eye contact for a second, and Hwanwoong faintly wonders how this must look like for other people. He doesn’t have the energy to worry about this right now, though, and he grabs Seoho’s hands as he continues speaking. “This is a slump. The role is perfect for you, and you’ll do an amazing job in it. I don’t think anyone’s gonna be as good as you in there, so you’re not giving up. Understand?”

“So bossy,” Seoho chuckles nervously. 

They’re standing too close. Hwanwoong puts distance between them, because he feels like he should. “Promise me you’re not giving up.”

“I’m not,” Seoho says, awe seeping into his tone, an odd glint on his eyes “I promise.”

Heat rises to Hwanwoong’s cheeks, and he loathes what being on the receiving end of that stare does to him. He’s on edge, his skin tingling, and Seoho hasn’t even touched him. “You better not. Go back there and kick Hyojin’s ass?”

“Are you not coming too?” Seoho asks, his head tilted to the side.

Hwanwoong chuckles. “Would I leave you alone like this? My backpack’s still inside, I’m just gonna drink some water.”

Seoho rolls his eyes and walks inside the auditorium without a word. 

Instead of doing what he said he’d do, Hwanwoong runs to the bathroom and splashes his face with cold water, tries to regain his composure before going back there, well aware his classmates would tease him mercilessly if they had seen him at this infatuated, ridiculous state.

He unlocks his phone, sees the selfie he took with Seoho after his first play in the background. 

He’s so fucked. 

...

Few things change as Hwanwoong becomes a sophomore. 

If anything, they get worse in the crush department. Seoho remains blissfully oblivious even as their friendship deepens, they share secrets and get closer yet the instances where Hwanwoong feels flustered or delivers exaggerated praise out of the blue remain unmentioned. His friends aren’t as clueless, though, and he’s teased to no end every time Seoho invites him to do anything that doesn’t involve acting or the club. 

They have lunch together at weekends quite often, they go to the movies just the two of them twice, Seoho even sleeps over at Hwanwoong’s house. However, nothing ever happens.

He accepts the fact that Seoho is as straight as they come, and tries to cherish his friendship instead of nurturing any delusions. His heart doesn’t seem to be listening to him well, but it’ll work out. This is Seoho’s senior year, too, so they’ll grow distant sooner than later, and Hwanwoong will be free to pursue someone who’s gonna give him the time of the day.

His plans completely fall apart at lunch time, though.

“Oh my God, holy shit,” Hansol nearly screams as he rushes over to them, a shit-eating grin on his lips as he plops down by Seungkwan’s side and slams a sheet of paper in the middle of the table “Read this. Now.”

Hwanwoong still eats with his friends from the theater club, sort of — as Youngjo graduated, Soyeon has taken over the role of director, which means there are days when she’s too busy preparing and planning their upcoming plays to sit with them at the cafeteria. There are also two freshmen who recently joined the club, Haknyeon and Jiwoo, who are both cute and expressive and smiley. The rest of the group remains the same, with Hansol, Seungkwan and Soojin still very active theater club members.

“Is this the casting for the spring play?” Jiwoo asks excitedly. 

Hansol nods. “Chahee told me to pin it on the notice board but I made a copy to show y’all firsthand. You’re welcome.”

Hwanwoong auditioned for the main role, as per usual, and he’s been expecting these results for weeks. Soyeon’s lips were zipped shut, she refused to give him any sort of spoilers despite being the one who would make the decisions with Chahee. He had no idea of whether he’d get the part or not, but between the lukewarm responses and Soyeon’s silence, he was starting to lose hope.

He grabs the copy hurriedly and looks for his name.

He finds it, and his mouth falls open.

“I got the part,” Hwanwoong whispers. His heart is beating so loudly he can barely hear his own thoughts.

Haknyeon blinks. “That’s… a good thing, isn’t it?”

“You look so pale,” Soojin frowns, worried.

Hwanwoong places the sheet of paper at the center of the table again. He points to the name Lee Seoho written as the other lead. 

Hwanwoong’s romantic pairing. 

“Oh,” Seungkwan exclaims, smirking “So that’s what this is.”

“I need to see Soyeon,” Hwanwoong ignores him, turns to Soojin “Do you know where she is?”

Soojin levels him with a cold stare. “You’re not gonna yell at her, are you?”

“I have never yelled at anyone in my life,” Hwanwoong answers. 

Soojin’s stare grows even colder.

“No, I’m not gonna fucking _yell_ at her,” Hwanwoong stands up, buries his hands on his hoodie’s pockets “I’m gonna ask to swap roles. One of the new kids could play the lead.”

“Woongie, you’ve been waiting for this opportunity since last year,” Seungkwan says, eyebrows furrowed, and he's right. Hwanwoong wants to stand on stage, wants things to be about him, wants his skills to be recognized.

Yet, the thought of acting romantic with Seoho on stage makes his stomach flip.

“They didn’t even like my audition,” Hwanwoong says, fervently “It must be a prank or whatever. I’m gonna go talk to her, that’s all I’m gonna do. Soojin?”

“She’s at the auditorium,” Soojin concedes “Be nice.”

“I will, thanks,” Hwanwoong makes his way to get out of the cafeteria, the place suddenly becoming too crowded for him and his running thoughts. 

Before he leaves, he hears Haknyeon asking "Is he going to eat that meatloaf?" and Hansol's booming laughter as a response.

...

Soyeon is on stage, typing incessantly on her notebook, her black hair up in a ponytail. She's hardworking, career-focused and sharp, so she seems content with having tasks to fulfill.

Chahee had an old script, a coming-of-age, tender piece about two boys falling in love. Soyeon laid eyes on it and immediately wanted to bring it to life, except the students council was against showcasing homosexual relationships explicitly in front of the students. They claimed the parents could reach out to them and complain about their children being brainwashed, or whatever it is bigot parents say when facing anything different than what they're used to. 

Soyeon decided to take out the bits where the boys kissed, making their relationship teetering on the fine line between platonic and romantic. She's been working her ass off to bring Chahee's vision to life, and she's passionate about everything going smoothly with this particular play.

So Hwanwoong wasn't going to yell at her anyway, too scared of facing Soojin's wrath, but he was terrified.

She spots him before he can say anything. "You won't swap roles with anyone."

"I didn't even say anything," Hwanwoong points out. 

"You didn't have to, you look spooked enough," Soyeon rolls her eyes and pats the spot next to her "Come here. I want to show you something."

Hwanwoong sits by her side. There's a spreadsheet with names and numbers displayed on the screen of her notebook, titled “theater club”. Some names are familiar, some aren't. The sections are _main_ , _supporting_ , _antagonist_ , _villain_ , amongst other types of roles.

"Youngjo told me to study the history of the theater club, because history's main goal is seeing the mistakes others made so you won't do the same when it's your turn," Soyeon smiles. She's fond of their former director, despite their contrasting personalities. _He's okay, as far as men go_ , she used to say. "So I made this. You know what I found out?"

Hwanwoong shakes his head.

"There's been a lot of typecasting," Soyeon clicks her tongue "Seungkwan, for instance. He's been getting comic relief roles ever since he joined the club. Which is understandable, I guess, he is one of the funniest people I've ever met. And he's personable, too, which makes him fit these types of role even more. But he's also good at other things, and he wants to do other things, he wants people to see he can do other things. You know?"

"I saw you gave him the antagonist role," Hwanwoong comments "He's gonna do well."

Soyeon nods. "And some people have been getting overshadowed, too. Some really good people."

Hwanwoong sighs. He doesn’t need much more information to know who she's talking about. “I know. I’m not asking you to take anything away from him.”

“Listen, I’m not supposed to tell you this,” Soyeon starts “But I’m going to, because I’m your friend and you’re obviously freaked out. Seoho’s a senior, isn’t he? And he told Youngjo, very in passing, that he’d like to lead with you in his last year.”

Hwanwoong’s heart skips a couple of beats before he finds his voice again. “He did?”

Soyeon smiles. “Yeah. He might not want you for his boyfriend or whatever, but he definitely respects your talent and your craft. If you don’t accept, it’s gonna feel like rejection. And he’s had enough being rejected, I think.”

“This is emotional manipulation,” Hwanwoong accuses, but it’s empty. As soon as he knew Seoho asked for him, he had already made up his mind.

“This is the truth,” she replies, solemn “Do you still wanna swap roles?”

Hwanwoong shakes his head. 

...

  
  


Hwanwoong is, modesty aside, fucking incredible at what he does.

He likes getting to know his characters, their motivations and hobbies and personality traits, tries to relate them to media he already consumes, and takes his time to become his role. On stage, he has his technique — forgetting himself. He’s no longer Yeo Hwanwoong: he gets possessed by his role, and his mind and soul seem to shut off throughout the length of the play. He doesn't usually do that for rehearsals, but he'll have to.

Or else he'll spontaneously combust from the way Seoho is looking at him, intense gaze full of yearning.

Hwanwoong looks away a beat too soon, hugs himself as if cold. "I'm not supposed to stay for long, Jun. What's wrong?"

"Why are you avoiding me?" Seoho inquires, voice laced with hurt.

"I'm not avoiding you," Hwanwoong puts his hands on his pockets, tries to forget himself, to become Minho, the boy who was severely bullied when younger and became closed off due to that, only truthfully expressing himself through his art.

Seoho is Junyoung, the leader of the soccer team, popular and friendly with a dysfunctional family and a deep-rooted need to be liked. These roles are completely different from their actual personalities, which is a challenge in itself. They also have to act and show the crowd they're in love, but in a way without words, in a way clueless parents could still interpret as brotherly love.

"You are," Seoho insists, his lower lip quivering "Did I do something to deserve this? Have I hurt you?"

He's so _good_ with this role, Hwanwoong can't focus. "You never hurt me."

Seoho shakes his head, scoffs. "Why do you do this, then? Why do you push me away when we're starting to get close?"

"I- I'm not someone to become close with," Hwanwoong replies, almost sure his stutter isn't on the script "There's something wrong with me, fundamentally. You don't _want_ to be my friend. I'm horrible and rotten and everyone who gets close to me leaves, and I think I deserve it."

"How can you be so sure I'm gonna leave you?" Seoho asks, softer, grabs Hwanwoong's clammy hands "Minho? Look me in the eye and tell me you think I'm gonna leave you."

"I think you're gonna leave me," Hwanwoong answers, voice broken. He doesn't even have to think about it much - he sheds tears, scripted tears, and maybe it's easier because he's overwhelmed and every second Seoho spends staring into his soul is a second his body is going through a collective meltdown.

"I'm not," Seoho says, smiles sadly "That day at school… I thought you trusted me. I thought I was the sun and you were the moon and we completed each other."

"I meant everything I wrote then," Hwanwoong argues, voice broken, lets go of Seoho's hands so he can dry his tears "But you shine bright, Junnie. I glow weak, but you give people strength. You're too good to waste yourself on someone like me."

Seoho pulls him closer to a hug and Hwanwoong cries harder. "Don't ever say that," Seoho mutters, his voice firm "I'm not giving up on you. I'm not letting you go. Not now, not ever."

He's so warm, Hwanwoong thinks. His body is firm, his muscle lines tightly defined, but his hands are soft and he smells of comfort and home. "You're gonna regret this," Hwanwoong warns.

Seoho looks at him, hands on his shoulders, and on the original version, they were supposed to kiss then. After the changes, this part could become anticlimactic, with no big action to close the scene. Soyeon had instructed them to exchange a stare so deeply intense the crowd would feel like they kissed even if they hadn't.

"I don't think I will," Seoho says, something burning behind his eyes, and Hwanwoong parts his lips ever so slightly before getting pulled back into another hug, ending the scene. 

They stand on each other's embrace for longer than intended, until the sound of Saebom's boisterous clapping fills the room.

"This was beautiful!" Seungkwan coos. He hands a box of tissues to Jiwoo, who looks like she has cried too, and she blows her nose as Haknyeon rubs her back consolingly.

"It really was," Soyeon concedes, which is huge "Hwanwoong, I need your body language to be less… you. Minho isn't comfortable in his own skin, and he's scared of confrontations. You need to really dwell on this character, understand?"

Hwanwoong nods. "Yes, boss, sorry."

"Seoho," Soyeon calls, assessing him with those sharp eyes of hers "The emotion in your delivery was great, and you kept the intensity of the scene very close to the original. Your timing was a bit off, though. You didn't give your character enough time to digest what was being said. Gotta work on that."

Seoho hums, thoughtful. "I'll practice more."

"We're gonna build something really special, you guys," Soyeon says, in a rare display of earth sign self-satisfaction "Ok, next scene. Chaebin, Seungkwan, Donghyun. Get up here."

They get off the stage, Hwanwoong pats Seungkwan's back as encouragement. He sits on the back of the auditorium, trying to recover from the heavily emotional scene he had to act, alongside his long time crush. He wonders how the hell he managed to keep it together.

Seoho sits next to him, because of course he does. "That was awesome. You cried so easily."

"It was a physical reaction to your bad breath," Hwanwoong retorts, using snark as his primary shield.

Seoho giggles. "I should stop brushing my teeth if it's gonna make you act like Meryl Streep."

"You're disgusting," Hwanwoong says, fondness sprawling across his chest.

...

  
  


Hwanwoong dreams of kissing Seoho every day after rehearsals, which is inconvenient.

It's also cruel because of how real it feels. 

In the first dream, they are rehearsing in Hwanwoong's room, trying to use most of their time on perfecting their delivery. During the main climax, Seoho pulls him in for a kiss that doesn't exist in the script, nor in the original version. He's hungry, demanding, as if all the tension inside him built up to such high levels it made him explode. Hwanwoong responds to such passion with devotion and surrender, until he hears his mother calling for him to go eat breakfast.

In the second dream, it’s the day of the play. Their physical contact is supposed to end with a hug, but on the last scene Hwanwoong stares at him all lit up from wanting and Seoho kisses him gently, holds him closer than the script says he should, Haeyoon gasps in the background and Soyeon lets out a colorful string of curses. 

It happens a lot, so many scenarios that could never become reality, to the point Hwanwoong wonders whether his unconscious has something against him.

So, when the long-awaited spring play comes, he has to pinch himself to make sure he’s not dreaming as he waits backstage. 

There’s an air of nervousness in the room, so thick you could touch it, and while Hwanwoong doesn’t suffer from stage fright in the slightest, he has to worry about keeping himself together and in character as the boy he’s in love with holds him delicately and whispers sweet nothings at him and looks at him like he’s something precious. He had nailed the rehearsals, the existing friendship between them easing their dynamics on the first scenes, but everyone in theater knows that everything changes when you’re standing in front of an audience and the lights are hitting.

But it’s going to be alright. Hwanwoong is going to make it alright, because this is his first main role and this is Seoho’s first main role and they both deserve this opportunity. 

Seoho gets anxious easily in situations like this, too, so Hwanwoong has to pretend he’s calm. 

That he hasn’t been having these weird dreams over and over.

That he isn’t scared with the extent of his feelings, that he doesn’t feel like he’s going crazy.

“Stop tapping your foot,” Hwanwoong whispers as Saebom fixes his makeup.

Seoho takes a deep breath. “I feel like I’m gonna throw up.”

“You won’t throw up,” Hwanwoong’s voice softens, naturally “You always say that, and you never do.”

“There’s a first time for everything,” Seoho retorts, lets out an ouch as Sohee pulls his outfit a little too tight around the waist.

“Stop fidgeting or I’ll stab you with this,” she hisses, pointing her pin at him.

He gulps down and says nothing. 

Haknyeon peeks through the curtains, something neither of them had the courage to do, turns to them with his eyes wide. “Holy shit. Jiwoo did mention she shared our pamphlet to her friends from her old school, and I did the same with mine, but I didn’t think there’d be so many people.”

“There’s people from outside the school?” Seoho croaks out. 

Hwanwoong glares at Haknyeon, who quickly catches the hint and squints the way he does when he’s lying. “Not too many though, I don’t recognize most of these faces so maybe these are all seniors I never talked to.”

Thankfully, Seoho doesn’t know him well enough to notice when he’s being a terrible liar, so he only lets out a relieved sigh. “Less people to see me pass out.”

“You guys go in five,” Jiwoo cheerfully announces, then her grin falls off her face as she takes a look at Seoho “Oh, dear. You look green. Did Soyeon cast an understudy? Haknyeon, are you his understudy?”

“I’m Hwanwoong’s understudy,” Haknyeon answers, tilting his head to the side in thought “I think Jihoon’s his understudy?”

“Jihoon’s sick,” Jiwoo cries out “What do we do?”

“Nothing,” Hwanwoong says tiredly. He turns to the cast and the staff who are exchanging worried, near panicked glances “We’ll do the scene as planned. No one’s green. No one’s gonna pass out. It’s gonna be alright. We worked our asses off for this moment to be perfect, and it’s going to be.”

“Is it?” Seoho asks, the smallest he’s ever sounded. Sohee’s done with his outfit, has already moved on to fixing Donghyun’s ripped pants.

Hwanwoong steps in front of him, shielding him from everyone’s inquiring gazes. They don’t get it, because as much as they care about Seoho, their primary concern is his fears getting in the way of them presenting a successful piece to the public. Hwanwoong’s the opposite — he cares about Seoho’s wellbeing first and foremost, which is why he wants him to step into the spotlight. To swallow the applause and the praise and the attention.

Hwanwoong grabs Seoho’s hands. “These fools out there? They won’t know what hit them.”

“I don’t know how you can be so sure,” Seoho mutters, staring at the curtains.

“I trust you,” Hwanwoong says, and he doesn’t even try to not sound smitten. If he’s lucky, it’ll get mistaken for platonic affection as it usually does.

Seoho giggles. “Huge mistake.”

…

They don’t kiss.

Seoho, despite his worries, was amazing, a shooting star, and collective gasps from the audience could be heard as he went on his monologues. People clung to his every word, entranced, waiting on the edge of their seats. He was on fire, his passion and his effort and his honesty shining through, crystal clear, and as he shed tears, everyone in the room seemed to get misty-eyed as well.

They don’t kiss.

They pour their hearts onstage on their couple scenes, though. The highlight of the script is their evolving relationship paired with their individual coming of age stories, so it makes sense their scenes are the most charged. Hwanwoong sobs in a way he hadn’t during rehearsals, overwhelmed, and Seoho hugs him tighter than he was supposed to, but it doesn’t ruin the mood, doesn’t seem like too much. They hadn’t planned on amping up the performance — it had come spontaneously, as waves crashing against sand. 

They go out for drinks in celebration, despite being underage, and Sohee scolds them so they only grab one wine cooler each. Unfortunately for her, it is enough to make Hwanwoong red and babbling, and Seoho holding him so he wouldn’t trip. 

“We did really well tonight,” Hwanwoong mumbles against Seoho’s shoulders. 

“We did,” Seoho replies, kind, and he sounds rough from using his voice too much.

It’s kinda sexy, and it takes an overwhelming amount of self-control for Hwanwoong to not let that slip out of his drunk brain. 

Soojin frowns, concerned. “Who’s taking him home?”

“Me!” Seungkwan raises his hand, grins, also tipsy and red-cheeked. He’s staying at Hansol’s place, while Soyeon is going to crash at Soojin’s, giving the excuse of an upcoming school assignment.

Soojin snorts. “Anyone else?”

“I’ll do it,” Seoho says, because he’s an angel “Already told his mom he was gonna sleep at my place.”

“Great,” Soyeon turns to Hansol, eyebrows furrowed in thought “If I distract Sohee, can you get us more wine cooler?”

…

Hwanwoong isn’t proud to say his first time being hungover was at the tender age of sixteen.

Thankfully, he doesn’t experience what movies and books describe, not as intensely. But his memory is fuzzy, he particularly doesn’t remember how he got into this particular set of clothing, loose shorts with a white shirt over it. 

Plus, he feels parched. He has never craved a glass of water so bad in his life.

He looks down to a mattress set up right next to the bed and sees Seoho wrapped around his covers, scrolling through his phone. He must’ve noticed Hwanwoong’s up, because he lowers his phone immediately and smiles.

“Good morning, Sharpay,” the intensity of his bright grin paired up with the cute sight of his messy morning hair is enough to intensify all of Hwanwoong’s hangover symptoms.

He frowns. “Why did you let me drink so much?”

“So you wouldn’t do it again,” Seoho retorts “You’re welcome. How are you feeling?”

“Thirsty,” Hwanwoong whines, rolls on the bed. Every inch of it smells like Seoho, which poses a threat to Hwanwoong’s rationality. What kind of psychopath obsesses over another person’s scent, anyways? This isn’t Teen Wolf.

Seoho stands up. He’s wearing what one would assume he wears to sleep, a white tank top with light blue shorts that were certainly riding up his thighs as he walked. He’s not even trying to be particularly seductive — summer’s coming and the heat is already falling upon them mercilessly, so. This should be fine, Hwanwoong has seen him in less clothing, hell, has seen him shirtless, with shorts shorter than this. 

But he gulps and finds his throat dry, dry, dry.

Seoho comes back with water, sits by his side on the bed as he drinks it. “Have you ever thought of prom?”

“If I ever thought of prom?” Hwanwoong scoffs “I already have the outline of my outfit planned since before I even joined high school.”

“Damn,” Seoho chuckles “I need to buy a suit. And find a date. Have you thought of your date?”

_You_. Hwanwoong shakes away that thought, no use for something so terribly delusional lounging his head. “Not yet. I want to be about me, to be honest, so. Do you have anyone in mind?”

“Not at all,” Seoho pouts “I tried to think of my friends first, right? But Haeyoon already has a date and Chahee has a thousand dates and I don’t know my other classmates. I don’t know when the theater club became my only social circle, it’s awful.”

Hwanwoong hates himself for what he’s about to suggest, but. He’s a good friend. “You could invite Saebom. Aren’t you guys doing your prom with the juniors this year?”

“Um, yeah,” Seoho says, suddenly shy “I thought she already had someone?”

Hwanwoong wants to be steamrolled, because he knows that tone. “She doesn’t. She mostly wants a dance partner and to show off in front of everyone, but you have an okay face and you are an okay dancer, so it should be fine.”

“An okay face?” Seoho asks, indignantly. 

“That’s what I said,” Hwanwoong deadpans. 

He faintly wonders if his mouth can fall from lying too much.

…

“You’re torturing yourself, babe,” Seungkwan says, patting Hwanwoong’s back as he stares at the same Instagram picture for ten minutes.

It’s Saebom’s profile, and she’s decided to broadcast a lot of her experience at prom. She’s dyed her hair blonde and did her makeup professionally, the soft lines and glitter giving her a fairy-like aura. She’s wearing a silky dual-chrome dress, its colors shifting from silver to purple depending on how you look, and heels a bit too high for a high school event. In her stories, someone is filming her twirling with her outfit, and there's very familiar laughter in the background.

She grabs the camera and turns it to face Seoho. His outfit isn't too exciting, just a sleek black suit carefully tailored to his body. His hair is pushed back and there's barely any makeup on his face, maybe some burgundy eyeshadow and concealer over his dark circles with a sheer layer of gloss on his lips. He's grinning to the camera, holding a bouquet of lavenders, sheepish, cute. 

It might sound dramatic, it probably was dramatic, but he looked like everything Hwanwoong has ever wanted.

Taking pity on his whining, his friends decided to throw a party and call it anti-prom. Seungkwan calls Donghyun and Youngtaek, Soojin calls Jiwon and Suji, Hansol calls Moonbin and Eunbi, Hwanwoong calls Donghan and Chaesol, his nice Biology partner. Soyeon calls no one, because her only friends outside of the theater club were attending prom, but she comes to the party which is as good as anything.

It's supposed to be a distraction. 

Hwanwoong isn't doing well at letting himself be distracted.

Saebom spins the camera to fully show Seoho's outfit, making appreciative noises all the while. He laughs, embarrassed. "Stop!"

"I can't help myself," she says, giggling, the camera now on selfie mode "I'm gonna objectify you until the end of the night."

Seoho sputters. "You think I'm a piece of meat?"

"Men are nothing but the object of my consumption," Saebom answers solemnly, and he cackles until the story ends.

In the photo she posted to the feed, they have their backs facing each other, a Mr. and Mrs. Smith parody of sorts, and they're sporting equally mischievous smiles as they face the camera. They seem to be having so much fun, is the worst part. The caption reads "a night to remember", and a heart emoji following it.

"High School Musical references were our thing," Hwanwoong whines, taking a sip of his low alcohol beer.

"That's a nice picture, though," Donghyun comments, unhelpfully.

"Really pretty dress," Suji mutters, even more unhelpful.

Hwanwoong groans, drinks more.

"Tough luck, dude," Moonbin says sympathetically "Crushing on seniors suck."

"Why don't you give me your phone?" Soojin suggests "You'll feel better if you forget they exist, I promise. And I already have Soyeon's with me since she insists she'll text our Arts teacher telling her she's a MILF."

Hwanwoong sniffles. "Yeah, I guess it'd be better," he hands his phone to Soojin. His mom already knows he's sleeping at Seungkwan's place, so he doesn't have much to worry about. He should try and have fun.

And he does. He kicks asses at Just Dance, he loses at beer pong, he claps and whistles as his classmates play spin the bottle, and he forgets all about Lee Seoho for around three hours, which has got to be a new record for him. 

It lasts until everyone leaves. Hansol stays at one of the guest rooms, but he's fallen asleep, having taken way too many fruity cocktails nursed by Seungkwan's sister. 

Hwanwoong sprawls himself across the couch, tries not to reach for his phone. Soojin left it on one of the taller shelves at the kitchen, but he could easily get it with the help of a handy stool. Seungkwan is showering, so there's no one to reprimand him.

He opens Instagram immediately. He finds new stories from Saebom and clicks on them right away, sense of self-preservation long gone. 

One of the stories was of them on the dance floor, obviously dancing circles around everyone else with an amount of physical contact teetering on inappropriate. They weren't touching each other in ways that could be considered disrespectful, but the lingering gazes they were sharing were building up some sort of tension. 

Then the music changed, and the latin pop gave way to soft, romantic ballads. They were slow dancing, now, which was less fun and more elegance and closeness. Seoho had a firm hand on her waist, Saebom had her hands on his shoulders. It was like a car crash, and Hwanwoong couldn't look away.

The last set of stories was one for her Close Friends, and Hwanwoong had no idea when she put him there, but his thought process immediately stopped as he realized they weren't at school anymore. She was filming her own face, either high or drunk, as she described the night in detail. It sounded like she was in bed, and she turned the camera to the side and lo and behold, there was Lee Seoho himself, wearing only his button down and a loose tie around his neck.

"What did you think?" she slurs out, amused.

"I had fun," Seoho says, his speech not as mumbled as hers, but still slower than his usual. 

"Good," Saebom smirks, and the last story is a picture of the two of them making V-signs to the camera, _that's all folks_ written on top of it. He doesn't have his tie, and her lipstick is smudged.

Hwanwoong has an eye for detail, you know.

Even if he didn't, it doesn't take a genius to figure out what had happened there. Seungkwan comes out of his shower smelling like fresh strawberries, and Hwanwoong opens his arms, asking for a hug. 

Seungkwan indulges him. He doesn't, usually, but he has a soft spot for the heartbroken.

"You feel nice," Hwanwoong mutters. He doesn't know whether his needy mannerisms come from his low alcohol beer or his sadness. It must be a mix of both.

"Thanks, Woongie," Seungkwan says, softly "You opened Instagram again?"

Hwanwoong nods. They part, Seungkwan tsks in disapproval. "Don't add salt to those wounds. They're fresh."

"I was just curious," Hwanwoong shrugs "Have I told you I was the one who said he should ask her out? Because I was. I dug this grave for myself, really."

"You were being a good friend," Seungkwan comforts him. 

"You are a good friend," Hwanwoong replies with certainty "Wanna make out?" 

Seungkwan chuckles. "I don't think Hansol would like that."

"Are you guys finally together?" Hwanwoong asks, his mood brightening exponentially. 

"Yeah," Seungkwan says, and Hwanwoong didn’t think someone as extroverted and sunny as him would have the capacity of becoming flustered, but here he is, cheeks pink as he talks of his boyfriend "We haven't made any big announcements for obvious reasons, but we decided to try things out."

"I'm glad," Hwanwoong means it, and he means it even as he tucks himself to sleep after a good cold shower. He has known these two for a while, has seen their close friendship evolve into something ambiguous, has seen the hardships they faced to admit their own feelings to themselves. They're both amazing people and deserve happiness.

However.

It's what Hwanwoong wanted for himself. He wanted to fall for his close friend despite the odds, and he wanted to be loved back. He would never want to steal this moment from his friends, yet he can't help the tinge of jealousy coloring his other emotions.

Hwanwoong isn't very conscious of his height, finds it one of his charming traits, but right now, lying alone in a bed too big, he has never felt so small.

...

Hwanwoong moves on.

He attends Seoho’s graduation, because that’s the least he could do as a friend, and notes with a certain level of satisfaction that his date wasn’t there. Hwanwoong doesn’t do much to keep their connection alive after that, though, because he tells himself this was a bump in the road. He's read some articles, and came to the conclusion that his crush on a straight man is a stepping stone for him to fully unleash his potential and fall for likeminded people.

Hwanwoong won’t lie and say he won’t miss Seoho — his easy laughter, his crooked vision, his support, the way his eyes disappeared when he smiled too wide, how comfortable and nice it was to be around him. 

However, things are better this way. Seoho is going to do well with whatever he chooses to do, and Hwanwoong’s gonna dedicate his life to perfecting his craft as he had planned. 

Hwanwoong moves on, and soon it’s his turn to say goodbye to high school.

His friends are going down the predicted path — Soojin wants to become a professional dancer, Soyeon wants to become a professional director, Seungkwan wants to become a musical actor and Hansol is making some auditions and has a SoundCloud account on the side. On graduation day, Haknyeon cries his eyes out and Jiwoo gives them an inappropriate amount of flowers. 

They have a small gathering a week after, to celebrate this new phase of their lives. 

Soojin is the only decent cook out of their clique, so she’s the one who prepares the meals. Hwanwoong helps around the kitchen, Soyeon buys the drinks and Hansol lends his Netflix and Spotify Premium account. It’s, once again, at Seungkwan’s house, so he doesn’t think he has to do anything. He sits on the couch and turns on some Nailed It episodes as the rest of them scramble to get things done. 

Eventually, they end up eating fried chicken and chatting, with Childish Gambino’s Redbone playing in the background. 

“I’m gonna miss this,” Hansol says, laying on Seungkwan’s shoulder “Gonna miss you guys.”

“We won’t die,” Soyeon replies, one of her poor attempts at being comforting “We still have each other’s socials, we’ll keep in touch.”

“Yeah, but,” Hansol sighs, takes a sip of his energy drink “It’s not the same. My parents keep telling me they never contact people they met in high school.”

“They’re old, they probably don’t contact anyone,” Seungkwan deadpans, holding a chicken leg with the hand he’s not using to caress his boyfriend’s hair “But we’re no longer high schoolers, you know. It’s a transition, we’re supposed to feel nostalgic. To feel scared.”

“Are you guys scared?” Soojin asks, careful.

“Terrified,” Hwanwoong says, because it’s the truth “What if I hit my peak in high school?”

“You spent half of it pinning over a straight man, babe,” Seungkwan reminds him “That would be a shitty ass peak.”

“Shut up,” Hwanwoong hisses, happy that the mention of his former crush only fills him with embarrassment, now “I hope he’s doing alright now.”

Soyeon raises her eyebrows. “You haven’t kept in touch? Even through social media?”

Hwanwoong shakes his head. “I muted him on Instagram a couple months after he graduated, barely answered his texts. After a while he got too busy to reach out, so it all worked out for the best.”

“And you did that because...?” 

“I wanted to get over him.” 

“I see,” Soyeon says, her tone almost ominous, but before Hwanwoong can question her, Spotify changes the song to a booming Skrillex playlist, startling all of them. 

Hansol swears, scrambles to reach the remote. “My sister uses this account with me sometimes. I’m gonna tell her to use Mom’s instead... Sorry, y’all.”

“It’s alright,” Soojin dismisses his apologies with a smile “So funny that your younger sister listens to Skrillex, though.”

Hansol laughs, flustered. “Our music taste is very diverse.”

Hwanwoong is eager to start college, eager to take further steps with his pursuit of the arts, eager to meet new people, eager to dwell into adulthood, to live adventures beyond his imagination — however, he’ll admit he’s going to miss this. The easy atmosphere he’s built with his friends over the years, the memories, the silly drama that comes with teenagehood. Their plays, their hard work.

Hwanwoong doesn’t blame Haknyeon for crying, then — he distinctly remembers shedding a few overwhelmed tears before going to bed that night.

…

When Hwanwoong meets Lee Keonhee, he is completely lost.

To be fair, they both are. The campus had gone through renovations recently, so it looked nothing like the Google Maps photos Hwanwoong intended to use as a guide. His mother always told him that, even if he didn’t know where the fuck he was, he should act like he did, or else people could take advantage of his cluelessness. 

So, although he’s certain he’s walking in circles, he’s doing it confidently. 

Until a too-tall body crashes against him, almost making them topple over each other.

“I’m so sorry,” the guy mutters, his eyes big, brown and apologetic, at the same time Hwanwoong lets out a what the fuck under his breath “Do you know where the Drama school is, by any chance? I’m gonna miss orientation.”

“Um, no, I was actually looking for it too,” Hwanwoong answers, recovering from the brain damage he must’ve gotten with the force they bumped on each other “Are you a freshman too?”

“Yes! My name’s Keonhee,” he beams at Hwanwoong as he holds out one hand for a greeting “Nice to meet you!”

“I’m Hwanwoong,” he says, trying not to stare too hard. Keonhee is handsome, even though his fashion is nothing to write home about, just a large band shirt over denim pants. He has a cute smile, too, and seems nice, so his apparent clumsiness is 100% forgiven in Hwanwoong's book.

Keonhee pouts. “Now, what should we do about the being lost thing?”

…

When Hwanwoong meets Kim Geonhak, he isn't lost. 

He is, in fact, a sophomore, in charge of helping lost freshmen find their way to the orientation. He walks up to Hwanwoong and Keonhee, a polite smile on his lips, and asks them whether they’re lost.

Hwanwoong freezes, because he has never seen a hotter man in his entire life. 

A dormant part of his brain reminds him of Lee Seoho, his literal sexual awakening, but he convinces his unconscious this is something different. Seoho was a teenager. As far as teenagers went, he looked nice — lean yet muscular, with nice hair and a good-looking face. Hwanwoong was an even younger teenager, so that was enough for him to fall head over heels, and he won’t be dismissive of that.

However.

Geonhak is not a teenager. 

Geonhak is a man. He’s built like a dream — granted, he’s wearing a white button down and black pants, which isn’t the most revealing attire, but no outfit in the world would be able to make him look bad. He’s all strong arms and wide shoulders and firm chest and thick thighs and even if you completely ignore his body, his facial structure is perfect. Plump lips, seemingly white teeth, sharp eyes, and his voice is deeper than the hole Hwanwoong wants to dig himself right now.

Because he cannot, for the life of him, answer to one goddamn question. It’s like every single thought was wiped clean from his brain.

Thankfully, Keonhee steps in for him, with a well-timed yet spontaneous chuckle. “Yeah. Are you from Drama too?”

“Yeah,” Geonhak answers “You’re here for orientation, I figure? Classes don’t start until next week.”

“Yup, we heard there was booze,” Keonhee jokes.

Geonhak lets out a breathy chuckle. “Alcohol could be involved, yeah. I’m gonna take you guys where everyone else is and you can check out the schedule.”

Geonhak asks for their phone numbers to put them on a group chat with other freshmen so they’ll be up to date on extra activities, plus for them to get to know their classmates. He tells them it’s his first time being what they call the welcoming committee, and that in a way he can sympathize with the newcomers because there’s still a lot he doesn’t know. 

Hwanwoong slowly grows more comfortable as they talk, doesn’t feel as tongue-tied, because Geonhak had a very soothing presence despite being clearly an introvert. 

He takes them to what would look like a classroom, except there are no chairs, only flat pillows where people are sat in a circle. Geonhak sits near Keonhee and Hwanwoong, probably because there’s no space for him anywhere else, and explains: “You’re supposed to introduce yourself. Say your name, what brought you to choose this major, your experiences with art, maybe your age and your sexuality if you’re comfortable.”

There’s this guy who’s talking, dark blue hair, sharp eyes, so handsome that staring at him feels like a punch in the gut. Hwanwoong regrets coming here — what gave these people the right to be so pretty? How is he going to find a significant other at this rate?

“Hi, everyone, nice to meet you,” he begins, shyly “Um, I’m Juyeon, I’m nineteen and I chose this major because I’ve always loved dancing and I loved watching plays and stuff like that? I never tried anything professionally but I tried taking Law for a semester and it was horrible, so. Here I am.”

“Nice to meet you, Juyeon,” a girl answers, cheerful in a way that was more friendly than flirty. Her long blonde hair was tied up in a high ponytail “I hope you have better luck on this semester, really. God knows you shouldn’t put someone with inclinations for Art inside an office, ever. Who’s next?”

“I’m Changmin!” another guy chirps, grinning brightly. He’s not a classic beauty in the way Juyeon is, yet there’s something charming about his face that makes Hwanwoong keep staring, unknowingly smiling back “I’m eighteen, I used to choreograph some musicals back in school and I took acting classes when I was really young, but I have no formal experience otherwise. Also, my sexuality is yes.”

Geonhak laughs, which in turn makes Hwanwoong feel slightly relieved. 

Thank God, he’s not homophobic.

“I like him,” Keonhee whispers to Hwanwoong. He thinks he agrees. 

“Nice to meet you, Changmin,” a girl greets him, laughing. She’s pretty, because of course she is, with round pink cheeks and bangs covering her forehead “We’re very excited to see your talent. Any other volunteer?”

Changmin pokes the person next to him, who rolls his eyes. He has pink hair, looks every bit like a fairy. “I’m Chanhee, I’m also eighteen. All the experiences I have are church plays from when I was seven, but I really like acting, both learning about its history and doing it. Also, my sexuality is no.”

That gets even more laughter. Bangs girl almost chokes on her saliva, which prompts ponytail girl to talk in her place, greeting Chanhee and asking for the next person to introduce themselves. They seem to be both members of the welcoming committee, and are doing a good job of making the environment lighthearted and casual.

“I’m Keonhee, I’m eighteen and I was obsessed with High School Musical,” Keonhee starts, excitedly “That movie was not only my sexual awakening but my career awakening, believe it or not. I started acting and kissing boys because of Zac Efron, which is weird because he doesn’t claim Troy anymore, but this is my truth. I’ve been doing artistic performances here and there since I was little, but nothing too big, because my family wanted me to pursue formal education. And, um, that’s it?”

He turns to Hwanwoong, eyebrows furrowed in worry. “Did I talk too much?”

It’s then, as Keonhee was babbling about his backstory and about being in love with Troy Bolton, that Hwanwoong has the feeling he might’ve formed a friendship for life. “You were perfect.”

…

“You have got to be kidding me,” Hwanwoong says as Keonhee walks inside his dorm room, with his too-large suitcase, a Ryan plushie on his arms.

Keonhee cackles, delighted. “You’re stalking me! That’s really sweet, love, but we just met.”

“Piss off,” Hwanwoong spits out, though his tone is light, playful “I hope living with me won’t make you hate me forever?”

Keonhee scoffs. “You’ll be a breeze compared to my parents. Hey, um, are you hungry?”

Hwanwoong hadn’t noticed so far, got too carried away with the stress of moving to absorb the fact he hadn’t had lunch today, only breakfast. “I actually am.”

“Chanhee and Changmin are also living in the dorms, and they wanna get some pizza from the place down the street. Wanna come?” Keonhee asks as he places his suitcase near his bed. Their room is a little cramped, seems excessively small for a guy like him, with an expansive personality on top of a tall height, but they’ll only use it for sleeping anyways, it should be fine. 

Hwanwoong nods. “Hope it’s not too expensive.”

“Oh, no, it’s super cheap,” Keonhee assures him “Suspiciously cheap. Maybe we’ll get food poisoning.”

As if summoned, Chanhee shows up at their door. “Juyeon and Kevin are coming too. Just thought you should know.”

“Oh,” Keonhee exclaims, a smirk tugging at the corner of his lips “Noted.”

Chanhee sighs so heavily it’s almost theatrical. “I’ll be waiting downstairs. Don’t take too long.”

…

The pizza is good.

It’s not stellar, it’s not amazing, it’s not something Hwanwoong would have for himself if he wanted to splurge on food — the dough is very thin, which isn’t a style he appreciates much, and the sauce is clearly artificial. It’s cheap, though, and they’re college students, so they have a satisfying meal. They even order another pizza, because Chanhee has a surprisingly big appetite, and Juyeon, angelic Juyeon, covers the extra expenses as a treat for his new friends.

They’re all nice people. Chanhee and Changmin knew each other from high school, hadn’t planned on going to the same university but it happened, so they seem more at ease with an experience that otherwise would be nerve wracking, because they have each other. Kevin, Juyeon, Keonhee and Hwanwoong had never met each other prior to a couple hours ago, but they get along well. Kevin is an exchange student, he has a channel where he rates musicals and does singing covers overseas, he wants to become a playwright and he’s unbearably nice. 

Keonhee is the moving force of their table, the one person keeping the conversation alive and not letting jokes sit for long enough to be awkward. Changmin afterwards tells Hwanwoong about how Chanhee’s usually shy with strangers, and him feeling comfortable enough to banter with Keonhee is a good sign.

Hwanwoong doesn’t say anything, keeps this information stored somewhere inside his brain to use later.

“You guys,” Changmin starts, a truly terrifying smile blooming on his face “Has someone caught your eye yet?”

Hwanwoong’s heart yells Geonhak! before his brain can berate him for that. 

Kevin laughs nervously. “Everyone here is really good-looking. It’s kinda off-putting.”

“I know how you feel,” Hwanwoong agrees, careful.

Changmin groans. “No, this is boring. Chanhee, make this interesting.”

“No one’s caught my eye yet,” Chanhee says, except he’s clearly schooling his features into something neutral, so he must be lying.

“Bullshit,” Changmin retorts but leaves it alone “Juyeonie? Please?”

“Can I be like, honest?” Juyeon asks, his eyes darting across the table.

“Sure, man,” Kevin confirms “We won’t judge you.”

“That girl with the blonde ponytail from the welcoming committee? I think she’s in her third year,” Juyeon answers, earnest “She’s really pretty.”

“Oh, that’s Chungha, I think,” Changmin says.

Chanhee hums in thought. “She looks like she has a boyfriend. Have we stalked her social media yet?”

“No, we only stalked Minnie’s,” Changmin answers with a pout “We’ll find that out for you.”

Juyeon’s eyes go wide. “You guys really don’t have to. I don’t think I’ll be approaching anyone anytime soon, to be honest.”

“But why? If you’re okay with answering,” Keonhee supplies, politely, a small act of consideration that could’ve gone unnoticed since they’re all kind and attentive, but Hwanwoong feels a rush of affection for him regardless.

Juyeon grimaces. “I had a really ugly breakup recently. I’m trying to steer clear of relationships, at least for the time being, focus on my studies”

“I’m sorry that happened to you,” Changmin begins “But a couple hookups won’t hurt, will they?”

“Changmin,” Chanhee hisses.

“No, it’s okay,” Juyeon chuckles “Where do you think relationships start? I’m not gonna say no if someone attractive comes up to me and makes the offer, but I won’t go out of my way to approach them myself.”

“That makes sense,” Hwanwoong says, and he means it “What about you, Changmin? Anyone caught your eye?”

“You,” Changmin replies bluntly, eyes glinting mischievously.

Keonhee spits out his juice. It’s a spit take, the kind one would only see in movies, and Kevin laughs so hard he almost falls off his chair.

“I’m joking,” Changmin clarifies “No, I’m not joking, mind you, but like… I don’t think anyone specific caught my eye. I’d make out with about everyone who was in that room, but I need to interact a little more with them to know for sure.”

“Someone’s personality can make them unattractive so quickly,” Kevin rests his face on his hands, almost as if he was picturing a specific person inside his head.

The conversation is quickly steered in that direction, of how easily each of them were turned off by hot people with awful personalities, then it turns to bad hookups, until it’s 10pm and the pizza place is about to close. 

Hwanwoong likes them, he decides. 

…

On the second day of orientation, Hwanwoong walks around the campus as Keonhee sleeps in, his long arms wrapped around his plushie, face squished against the pillow.

Hwanwoong has pent-up energy flowing incessantly through his veins, plus he does want to get to know the place he’ll spend the next four years at. He doesn’t call it a morning jog, because it would give the impression he’s one of those people who work out a lot, which he is not. However, he does put on a morning jog attire, full with a headband, a tank top and shorts.

He appreciates how green the campus is, appreciates being able to take a breath of fresh air, which definitely wasn’t an option during his high school days.

Everything’s an option, now, he realizes with a grin.

He’s out of his parents’ place, for starters. He doesn’t have to beg for their approval, doesn’t have to sneak around to do what he wants, doesn’t have to put on an act so they wouldn’t be embarrassed of their drama queen of a kid. He doesn’t have to hold his art back to fit inside the minds of bigot parents, doesn’t have to beat around the bush to talk about boys.

There’s still the shadow of prejudice everywhere, he supposes, still people ready to assume whatever they want about him. But he doesn’t care as much as he used to, back when he was an overeager theater kid. Now, he feels like the world is his oyster.

He does hope none of his classmates catch him in his running outfit, because he’d be a little embarrassed.

And because the world likes proving him wrong, as he’s resting on one of the benches, he catches a head of blonde hair, glistening skin and his thought process stops entirely.

“Hwanwoong! Hi!” Geonhak waves at him. He has something similar to what Hwanwoong’s wearing, except he has much more mass to actually fill these clothes.

Hwanwoong waves back, absolutely mortified. He hopes this is it, that Geonhak runs by him with only a greeting, but of course that’s not the case. Of course he has to sit on the bench, right next to Hwanwoong, heat radiating off of him. “How are you doing?”

“I’m good,” Hwanwoong reaches for his water bottle, takes a huge sip of it “You?”

“I’m okay,” Geonhak says, his adorably polite smile on “Are you usually a morning person?”

Hwanwoong chuckles. “Not at all. But I was getting antsy, and didn’t wanna wake Keonhee up and bother him, so. I decided to run for a bit.”

“That’s understandable,” Geonhak says “Starting college is always a bit of a change, and you met so many people in one go. Are you and Keonhee roommates?”

“Yup, we’re on the students’ housing system,” Hwanwoong answers.

Geonhak hums cheerfully. “That’s good! You guys looked like you were getting along well!”

“That’s because we both have a lot of missing braincells,” Hwanwoong quips, amused. He’s not malfunctioning as much as he thought he would! He’s pointedly avoiding staring at the other man too much, but still. 

Geonhak laughs. “Living with someone can be difficult, so it’s better to do it with likeminded people.”

“Do you have any bad experiences?” Hwanwoong asks, trying to encourage conversation.

Because he genuinely likes Geonhak, thinks he’s showing himself to be a good person so far, and because he genuinely needs to know if he likes men. No pressure. “Yeah,” he lets out a deep sigh as the memories seem to flood his mind “I’m good now, though. I’m sharing a flat with some friends and they’re definitely less dirty than the housemates I had before.”

Hwanwoong scrunches his nose in disgust. “Men are so terrible.”

“Tell me about it,” Geonhak moves to stand up, which is bad. His legs are so nice. They look so strong. His everything looks strong, muscular, sturdy, reliable. 

“I really need to get going, but I’ll see you later at orientation?” 

Hwanwoong wants to faint. “See you there,” he croaks out, glad his brain didn’t shut down this time.

Geonhak grins at him, and it’s so bright and beaming it feels like he’s become one with the sun for these few seconds.

If Hwanwoong doesn’t kiss this man, he’ll die.

…

Dorm life isn’t as glamorous as the movies would trick you into believing.

Hwanwoong had realized that as soon as he walked into the building, well-aware this was nothing like the North American fantasy he was fed when younger, but he was faced with this fact once again as he found a giant line to the bathroom as soon as he went up to his floor.

There’s no elevator, so he has to walk up the stairs, and the building goes up to the third floor, where Hwanwoong is located. These are the dorms offered by the university for the students who don’t have the means to pay for their housing, and getting into them was not easy — he had to prove his family couldn’t afford the expenses, which demanded a lot of documents and bureaucracy, and even then it wasn’t certain he’d be able to get in. He was very happy when he saw his name on the list, both because he wouldn’t have to spend too much money commuting and because he’d finally be able to get away from his parents.

However. Those are far from luxurious living conditions. 

Yonghoon, their RA, set up a maximum of twenty minutes per shower, regardless of gender. It must’ve caused an uproar, yet Yonghoon insists it was necessary, and Hwanwoong can kind of see his point, because there’s an overwhelming amount of people living here, and if all of them took their time with showering, no one would ever get ready.

On top of that, some upperclassmen seem to have an arrangement at place: they take showers in groups so the line will move quicker and they won’t get late to their morning classes. 

Chanhee, who’s right behind Hwanwoong on the line, makes a face. “That will never be me.”

“Never say never,” Hwanwoong says, realizing with a hint of shame sharing a shower wouldn’t be much of a problem for him, especially in the name of practicality.

Keonhee comes up to them, rubbing sleepiness off his eyes, still wearing his pajamas. “Am I late?”

“We’re too early,” Chanhee says, voice soft “Orientation doesn’t start until after lunch.”

“But we need to get to the university restaurant,” Keonhee mumbles “I’ll go get my towel.”

“You sure you don’t wanna get more sleep?” Chanhee asks “I’ll cook us something for lunch. My mom packed too much food for this week.”

Hwanwoong startles. “Wait, us includes me?”

“I can sleep after I shower,” Keonhee dismisses Chanhee’s worries with a gesture, blatantly ignores Hwanwoong “The line will only get bigger the longer I take.”

Chanhee shrugs. “Alright, whatever.”

As Keonhee makes his way back to their room, Hwanwoong stores this interaction in the folder of his brain he uses to store interesting things.

…

The dorms’ kitchen wasn’t used often to cook, because the students were always in a hurry, lacking the free time and sheer will to go out of their way to cook a meal. People mostly used the microwave to heat up their meals and the fridge to keep things stored. They were strongly advised to keep tags with their names on the food they bought for themselves because if there’s food inside the fridge without a clear identification of who it belongs to, it’s free real estate.

Chanhee is an organized person, apparently. He takes the pots with his name written on them out of the fridge — there’s meat, vegetables and rice — and pulls his hair back with a scrunchie so it won’t fall on his eyes while he’s cooking. Hwanwoong helps him chop and boil the vegetables while he cooks the meat. Changmin helps by slapping Keonhee’s hands away everytime he wants to steal a bite. 

They’re not alone, of course, they’re not alone anywhere. There’s people eating food they probably ordered and people eating their microwaved meals, all sitting at the large table in the middle of the kitchen that almost fills up the entire room. There’s also the noise of people coming and going, heating up their food and going to their room to eat there instead.

Most of the residents are at the university’s restaurant, though, enjoying the massive discount for students and staff. Hwanwoong really wanted to eat there, but Yonghoon warned them the queue to eat there is always crazy long, meaning they had to get there around thirty minutes before it opened so they wouldn’t miss orientation. Except Keonhee had a terrible night of sleep and really needed a nap to recharge his energies, so Chanhee offered to make lunch for them so they’ll get to orientation in time.

So here they are.

“This is so good,” Keonhee moans in between bites “It’s melting inside my mouth.”

“Don’t be dramatic, you’re just hungry,” Chanhee grumbles. He’s already done eating, putting their leftovers back on the fridge. 

“It’s really good, though,” Hwanwoong adds on the compliment, because he values kindness very much, particularly when it comes from people he barely knows “Do you want me to wash the dishes?”

“No, I’m gonna do it,” Keonhee says, pouting “It’s my fault we’re not at the restaurant living our best freshmen lives, so…”

“It’s not your fault you couldn’t sleep, even though you should’ve woken me up,” Hwanwoong chides him, unable to help himself “The restaurant isn’t running away, we can go tomorrow.”

“Aw, thanks, roomie,” Keonhee grins, bright and open “I didn’t wanna bother you but I’ll do it next time.”

“I can help with the dishes,” Changmin offers. 

Chanhee squints at him. “You want to help?”

“Of course!” Changmin brings one hand to his chest, feigning offense “I’m very helpful!”

“Sure,” Chanhee says, still squinting. 

Hwanwoong eats the rest of his food in silence, a part of him wishing one of his friends from high school were here. He’s liking his new friends, but seeing Changmin and Chanhee’s easy banter makes him wish he had people he was familiar with, as well. People he could communicate with only using a glance.

Maybe Hwanwoong is guilty he slept soundly while Keonhee was tossing and turning on his bed. Whatever.

The four of them arrive at orientation as early as planned. Geonhak is there, as are the two other girls from yesterday plus a couple more unfamiliar faces who are probably involved with the welcoming committee as well. Changmin spots Kevin sitting on one of the benches, doodling on a sketchbook, and they all walk in his direction to greet him.

“Orientation hasn’t started yet,” he informs them “They’re waiting for at least ten of us to come? So I’m waiting.”

They make themselves comfortable, then. Keonhee and Changmin sit on the grass, Hwanwoong sits by Kevin’s side on the bench so he could stare at Geonhak better and Chanhee sits by Kevin’s other side because he didn’t want to get green stains on his outfit. Conversation flows easily between them, even more when Juyeon arrives.

Hwanwoong isn’t focused on them, though. Geonhak looks even more handsome than he had earlier today, wearing a floral print and jeans and his glasses sitting at the bridge of his nose as he listens attentively to what the girls are saying. At some point, he notices Hwanwoong is sitting near and flashes him a shy smile before turning back to his committee friends.

Hwanwoong needs to know two things, before he approaches Geonhak in a more straightforward fashion. 

First, is he interested in men? If yes, is he single?

Those are informations that could be easily acquired by social media stalking, which Hwanwoong had done during the first day before he slept, but he found nothing. Geonhak was awfully private on social media — his posts weren’t too informative, most of them being pictures of healthy food, of trees, of the sun setting, of starry skies, and a couple gym mirror selfies, which were hot as fuck despite also being awfully cliché.

Judging only by Instagram data, Geonhak had to be straight. A normal, harmless brand of straight, with a penchant for showing off occasionally. Single, because all the selfies he took with other people looked purely platonic.

However, Hwanwoong’s own Instagram isn’t the textbook definition of Pride, either. He mostly posts selfies, pictures of him, of his friends, of the few pretty places he had visited when younger, of his outfits back in the theater club. His bio reads eighteen, leo, acting major. An ordinary guy.

His Twitter account, on the other hand, is where he unleashes all sides of himself, shares videos of himself voguing and watches viral kidol fancams. Geonhak’s Twitter account, which Hwanwoong found by sheer luck, is locked, though, and requesting would make him look like a creepy stalker.

Hwanwoong will have to get that information through organic means — which, ultimately, means gossip.

“Hey, everyone,” a pretty girl with bangs walks up to them with a smile “We’re starting! We’ll play a game to get to know each other more, then we’ll go on a little tour around the campus. Are you coming?”

“Sure!” Keonhee answers, excited “You guys coming too?”

“I think we definitely need a tour,” Hwanwoong says, remembering how they both got lost yesterday. Now they live inside the campus too, so it’d be terribly embarrassing if they didn’t learn their way around.

Bangs girl introduces herself as Yerin, and the game she's mentioned is pretty simple. She'll ask them a question in which you'll have to choose one thing over another — sea or mountains, coffee or tea, hot or cold, dipping or pouring sauce, etc. You can't say which one you chose, though, instead you have to stay near the group of people you think have the same answer as you. Hwanwoong, who is obsessed with knowing people's first impressions of him, warms up to the game easily. 

"First question," Yerin yells, sitting on a bench so they'd all hear her. This game wasn't a freshman exclusive, so Geonhak was participating, as well as his other welcoming committee friends and other upperclassmen "Soju or beer?"

"What if we don't drink?" Geonhak asks, the cheeky lilt to his tone making clear this isn't an actual question more than it is him being difficult on purpose.

Yerin clicks her tongue, sighs in fake exasperation. "Who let the health freak join the game?"

"I'm serious!" Geonhak insists, smiling "Some of these kids probably don't drink, we should be inclusive."

"If you can't pick, you can sit and wait for the next question," Yerin tells everyone "Now keep it moving, people!"

Geonhak is sitting, along with Juyeon and some of the other freshmen. Hwanwoong distinctly remembers Keonhee saying he usually drinks beer and soju together, so he doesn't know which one his friend likes the best, but he's by Chanhee's side and Chanhee had commented he hates even the smell of beer, so Hwanwoong walks to the other side, where none of his friends are.

"Alright," Yerin begins, standing between the two groups "Raise your hand if you prefer beer."

Most people on Hwanwoong's side raise their hands, and Keonhee lets out a tiny yelp as he does the same and finds out he's been staying in the wrong group all along. He runs over to Hwanwoong, gives him a half hug. 

The game goes on, and Hwanwoong tries to focus on what his classmates will choose, tries to gather more information about the people he's gonna spend the next four years of his life with, but his attention naturally gravitates towards Geonhak. His choices are very unexpected, his childlike tastes contrasting with his tough appearance, and Hwanwoong finds himself endeared, intrigued. 

One of the sophomores, a giggly, fashionable exchange student from Thailand named Minnie, is the one who leads the tour through the campus. The amount of people lessens considerably, then, since this part would benefit the newcomers rather than anyone who was already familiar with the campus. 

Geonhak stays, though, and Hwanwoong swallows the giddy taste of hope when he notices that. Geonhak is responsible for welcoming freshmen, so of course he'd be helping with this, too. He sticks with Hwanwoong and his friends probably because they were the friendliest to him. No big deal.

"I think I'll help plan orientation next semester," Keonhee says. It suits him well - it's been two days and he's singlehandedly brought a group of people together and got a meal cooked for himself. It's easy to warm up to him, because he sounds very genuine.

Geonhak seems to believe so, too. "You'll do well. It's tough, I'm learning, and things never go as planned but it's also fulfilling when they work out."

"You guys are doing a great job so far," Hwanwoong says, because he feels like he has to "I thought my first day would be way scarier."

"Me too," Changmin adds on the conversation "Not as much because Chanhee's with me, but I thought it'd be only the two of us! Now I have four new friends to pester, that's nice."

Geonhak smiles bashfully at that, proud and sheepish at the same time. "I'm glad to hear that. It's a huge transition, joining college, there's a lot to get used to, and I wanna help easing up the process. So if you need me, I'm all ears."

Hwanwoong's traitorous heart flutters in a way that was long dormant. He refuses to hyperfixate on that, tells himself there's no need to unpack this. High school became boring to him in the romantic sense, because he knew everyone and wasn't interested in anyone other than Seoho. University is another world, with a whole new batch of people who could very well make him giddy.

Geonhak, with the body of a Marvel franchise hero, the face of a supermodel and the personality of a teddy bear, is only one of them.

…

The university restaurant is loud, boisterous and hot. 

Joining the queue is every bit the grueling ordeal Yonghoon warned them it would be, but as soon they get inside, Hwanwoong falls in love. Not only the food smells amazing and the prices are ridiculously cheap, he feels like this is the epitome of the university experience. He's reminded of the chatter of the cafeteria, Seungkwan excitedly sharing gossip and Haknyeon stealing his fries when he thought no one was paying attention.

Keonhee loves the food, eats with mukbang-worthy satisfaction. Chanhee complains about the scorching heat a lot, which is valid, and Changmin appreciates the free dessert.

Because of that, Hwanwoong goes to orientation in a great mood. When Chungha announces the first thing they'll do today is an ice breaker activity that consists of improvisation, his mood plummets.

Youngjo used to do improv sessions often, as a warm up, as a way to keep them on their toes. Seoho was incredible at them, because his unpredictable nature matched the quick thinking improv demands. Seungkwan used to do well, too, his witty comebacks coming in handy. Jiwoo had such a way with improv that for a while people thought she memorized scripts beforehand, a smart dialogue on the tip of her tongue every time.

Hwanwoong fucking _sucked_ at improv. 

He hadn't done it in a while after Youngjo graduated, so he's sure he sucks even harder now.

Chungha explains they should pair up with someone, they'll have five minutes to plan the semblance of a plot and present it in front of everyone. They were free to refuse to do so and just watch the others if they were too shy. She clarifies a thousand times it's not supposed to be serious, it's all in good fun, a little game for them to grow closer with each other and be creative at the same time.

Hwanwoong wants _death_.

"You're sulking," Geonhak points out, very amused.

Hwanwoong crosses his arms. "I'm gonna make a fool of myself out there."

"Of course you will," Geonhak retorts, smoothly "We all will. That's the point."

Hwanwoong huffs. "I can refuse, can't I?"

"You can do whatever you want," Geonhak says, breezy "But it's gonna be a pity. I really wanted to see what you'd come up with."

"That's _low_ ," Hwanwoong pouts. He has no idea how Geonhak guessed compliments were the way to win him over - but again, it wasn't much of a hard guess. Actors have big egos, save few exceptions.

"Even Chanhee is gonna do it," Geonhak continues.

Hwanwoong turns to look at a frowning Chanhee shaking his head and a cackling Keonhee gesturing wildly, trying to make a point. Kevin and Juyeon are on the other corner of the room, calmly discussing, Kevin writing something on his sketchbook. Changmin is paired up with Saerom, one of the welcoming committee members, and they seem to be having a lot of fun judging by their matching smirks staring down at their makeshift script.

"I don't have a pair," Hwanwoong argues weakly, his last resort. 

Geonhak snorts. "What am I, chopped liver?"

Hwanwoong sputters like a complete moron, completely taken aback by the subtle offer. He doesn’t know why he hadn’t expected it — to save Hwanwoong’s sorry, bad at improv ass despite knowing him for less than a week is the type of casual gentleness that seems to be Geonhak’s brand. “Uh, sure, um, are you sure?”

“Yes, I’m pretty sure,” Geonhak laughs, not mocking.

Hwanwoong rolls his eyes regardless. “Have you thought of a plot?”

Because they spent too much time bickering instead of brainstorming, their plot is very rough around the edges. Hwanwoong’s a farmer who lives in almost complete isolation and Geonhak is his mother’s friend’s son who doesn’t know how to do basic chores and has never seen a horse live and in colors. Hwanwoong complains about those roles being completely different from their realities, which will make him flop even harder than usual, but Geonhak argues they’re actors and pretending they’re other people is their job. 

Which is a bulletproof argument, really, had it not been for the fact Hwanwoong has stated several times he’s terrible at this and would’ve liked the simplest role they could come up with. Honestly, it’s almost like Geonhak wants him to flop in front of everyone.

Hwanwoong’s into it.

“Give me your cellphone,” he grumbles, trying to focus, to forget the watching eyes on his back. They’re not judging him, he has to remind himself. This is just a game.

Geonhak whines, already in character. “Why?”

“Because you’re slacking off,” Hwanwoong scolds him, biting back laughter “Your mom told you to help me with feeding the animals.”

“You won’t let me get away with it?” Geonhak makes puppy eyes. 

Hwanwoong scoffs, this time letting laughter color his features. “Why would I? I don’t even know you, dude!”

“Our moms are friends,” Geonhak retorts, arms crossed “We should be friends too.”

“As if,” Hwanwoong snatches the phone out of Geonhak’s hands, giggles at the fake wounded look he gets in response “You wanna become friends?”

“Yeah!” Geonhak frowns pitifully “But you hate me!”

“I barely even know you.” Hwanwoong’s expression softens. “We could be friends, except friends help each other. You’re gonna do that?”

“If I help you,” Geonhak starts, lips curled in a smirk “Will you give me your number?”

Hwanwoong splutters again, one hundred percent not acting. God, how he wishes this wasn’t improv — he’d have exchanged his city life for Geonhak looking at him like that any day of the week, nevermind he has no idea how to do any farm work. “I don’t even use my phone!”

“You’re curving me?” Geonhak asks, an eyebrow raised. He’s so cute and sexy and perfect.

Hwanwoong lets out a long-suffering sigh. “Whatever, I’ll give you my number. Can we get to work now?”

“Sure!” Geonhak grins, sunshine personified, turns to everyone who was watching and bows. 

Hwanwoong bows too, does it more obnoxiously because he’s stupidly giddy. Those were signs, right? Even if it only meant Geonhak warmed up to him as a friend, it was good enough. Better than nothing. There’s a bounce to his step as he goes back to sit with his friends, and he promptly ignores Keonhee’s questioning gaze as Kevin and Juyeon take the center of the room.

…

“Hey, roomie,” Keonhee calls him as he dries his hair with his towel, strands messily falling over his face.

The way Hwanwoong likes him leans more towards platonic affection and mutual understanding than anything, but he’s not blind — the guy’s pretty. “Yeah?”

“I have a question,” Keonhee starts, scrambles through his side of the wardrobe looking for a shirt “I don’t want you to be offended by it or anything. It’s just curiosity, because you never mentioned it.”

Hwanwoong rolls his eyes. He already knows what’s coming. “Yes, I do like men.”

Keonhee gapes. “How did you know I was gonna ask that!”

“I’m psychic,” Hwanwoong shrugs, smiling “Plus, I get that a lot. People find me ambiguous.”

“Oh, baby, you’re not ambiguous,” Keonhee giggles as he wears his outfit, a striped shirt and denim shorts “Changmin’s ambiguous, you’re private. There’s a difference. Your thing for Geonhak, by the way? Very obvious.”

Hwanwoong groans. This conversation turned against him quicker than he could’ve ever expected, or wanted. “Do you think he knows?”

“I was making fun of you, dummy,” Keonhee says, evidently more comfortable now that he knows Hwanwoong isn’t straight or a complete asshole “I don’t think he knows, no. I’m just observant like that.”

“Are you?” Hwanwoong chuckles, thinking of Chanhee “Okay.”

“What’s that supposed to mean?” Keonhee asks, eyebrows furrowed.

And listen, Hwanwoong told himself he wasn’t going to meddle, especially considering he met those people five seconds ago and knows nothing about them. He’s not a meddler, too, usually chooses to stay out of others’ business because he has enough problems on his own. He was supposed to stay quiet and let things unfold and then feel triumphant for seeing it coming.

However. 

He has a soft spot for Keonhee, and Chanhee makes him food. 

It’s different. It’s personal.

“You notice stuff, right? If you’re observant,” Hwanwoong offers, careful, teasing.

“Duh,” Keonhee looks confused, sounds annoyed “That’s what the word means.”

“So, if something was up in our recently built friend group, you’d know about it, wouldn’t you?” Hwanwoong gives him a last opportunity to guess. 

Keonhee rolls his eyes theatrically hard. “Get to the point already.”

“Turns out you’re not observant, you’re just all up in my business,” Hwanwoong quips, dodges when Keonhee throws his Ryan plushie at him “Chanhee likes you, gee! No need to get aggressive about it!”

Keonhee gapes for the second time this morning. “You’re shitting me.”

“He’s been obvious!” Hwanwoong screams, frustrated, then winces when he notices they’re chatting with the bedroom door open and lowers his volume “He’s made you food when you knew each other for two days. Less than that, even. Invited you to pizza on the first day.”

“He’s cooked for everyone and Changmin was the one who invited me,” Keonhee dismisses Hwanwoong’s perfectly reasonable statements as if they were nothing but a child talking gibberish. 

He’d be offended if he wasn’t so surprised at how dense his roommate actually is. “Are you stupid? Be honest.”

“I’m not fucking stupid!” Keonhee snaps, even louder than usual, and winces at himself at the same manner Hwanwoong did a few seconds ago “Sorry. I’m not yelling at you, just at the absurdity of this situation.”

Hwanwoong frowns. “Why’s it absurd, babe?”

“He’s snippy to me,” Keonhee says, calmer, as he ties his shoelaces “He looks very annoyed every time I do so much as open my mouth.”

“Because he’d like to shut it close with his,” Hwanwoong retorts, because this one was too good to pass up.

Keonhee squeals, throws his pillow. “Shut up! Shut up forever!”

A guy who lives in the room right next to theirs sticks his head inside the room. “Are y’all okay?”

“We’re fine,” Keonhee puts on his friendly extrovert smile “We’re just having an interesting conversation. Are we bothering you?”

“Nah, it’s cool. I was just wondering,” the guy murmurs, probably regretting the day he decided he’d live in the dorms with a bunch of weirdos, and walks away.

Keonhee and Hwanwoong stare at themselves in complete silence for a couple of seconds — then they burst into an endless fit of laughter. 

“Why are we so noisy?” Hwanwoong wipes tears off his eyes.

“I don’t know,” Keonhee giggles even more “Do you really think he’s into me?”

Hwanwoong nods solemnly. “I’m certain. Do you think I have any chance with Geonhak?”

“I don’t know either,” Keonhee answers “I can try and find that out for you?”

“Thanks,” Hwanwoong says, breathless “You’re a good guy, Keonhee.”

Keonhee grins. “I know.”

…

Orientation was fine.

They got to know each other, they played fun games and they learned a little bit about what was about to come for them. Thursday was fun, too: they were encouraged to bring their favorite meal to campus so they could have a picnic outdoors. Hwanwoong bought his meal because he didn’t have the time to cook, only to find out most of his friends had done the same, except Keonhee who tried making chocolate cake and Kevin who stress-baked too many vanilla cupcakes. The options were healthy, but mostly delicious, and at the end the freshmen asked their seniors if they had any tips to give. It was a heartwarming end to what had been a pleasant week, and Geonhak under the sunlight eating his veggie wraps was a delightful view.

Orientation was nice. Hwanwoong liked orientation.

What he was really looking forward to, though, was the party. 

“Why can’t I wear her?” Keonhee whines, clutching his denim jacket against his chest.

Chanhee pinches the bridge of his nose, annoyed. “Hwanwoong, explain it to him.”

“This is our first college party, officially,” Hwanwoong begins, calmly “We’re aiming to make an impression. To be noticed. To stir the pot.”

“To fuck shit up,” Changmin adds, unnecessarily.

“Why can’t I fuck shit up wearing jeans?” Keonhee pouts. 

Chanhee softens, because of course he does. “Because you wear it too often! Listen, let me choose just one outfit. Then I’ll leave you alone for the rest of the semester, and you can wear this stupid jacket as much as you want. Okay?”

Keonhee shrugs. “Sure.”

“Great!” Chanhee claps excitedly, turns to check what he has on his wardrobe “All the pretty boys are going to fall to your feet.”

“I only want one,” Keonhee mumbles under his breath.

Hwanwoong wants to hurl his lunch.

Not only because his friends are being disgusting, making him regret opening his mouth to tell Keonhee anything, but also because there’s a lot at stake on this party. Although Hwanwoong enjoyed bonding with his classmates, he knows it’s under the influence of alcohol and loud music that people show their truest sides. And he wants to have fun.

He doesn’t remember the last time he made out with someone he was actually interested in. His prom night experience wasn’t too exciting, his biology partner seemed even less into the whole thing than he was, and if he kissed her it was because he felt like it was a way to break a cycle, a way to fit into a mold. Because he thought it was something he should do — like Seoho did, his brain supplies unhelpfully. 

Hwanwoong doesn’t appreciate how often he thinks of Seoho, even two years after they lost touch. It’s less of a constant ache, more of a reminder that Hwanwoong had liked him so much, and the memories are more vivid than he would like them to be. Soojin once told him you never forget the first person you ever truly liked, and maybe she’s right. 

Hwanwoong still has a faint hope it’ll fade into nothingness, though. Doesn’t seem like a far away possibility, considering he’s already sort of smitten with Geonhak.

“Hey,” Chanhee calls him “Should I tell him?”

Hwanwoong blinks. Keonhee and Changmin went to buy dessert for themselves, so they were the only two people in the room. “Huh?”

“You know,” Chanhee’s ironing his clothes, even though he’ll probably wrinkle them all throughout the party. He makes vague gestures with one hand, holds the iron with another.

Hwanwoong knows. He wonders if he should play dumb just to be irritating, but he doesn’t want to embarrass poor Chanhee any further, and he knows what’s it like to have someone you’re interested in and lack the guts to do something about it. So. “Yeah, you should.”

Chanhee raises one eyebrow. “You sound sure.”

“That’s because I am,” Hwanwoong says “Go for it. If I say anything more I’ll be breaking the roommate code.”

“There’s no such thing,” Chanhee retorts, laughing “If he’s not interested and I make an absolute fool of myself, what should I do to you?”

“Kiss me instead,” Hwanwoong offers, smiling coyly “Consolation prize.”

Chanhee throws a pillow at him. “Go get ready. I don’t wanna be late, and we still have to catch dinner.”

“Yes, sir,” Hwanwoong bows military style at him and makes his way to his bedroom. He spends a long time standing in front of his wardrobe, trying to figure out a style that would be the perfect intersection between chic and effortless. If he overdressed, he’d seem uncool, and if he didn’t make at least an effort, people would think he’s sloppy.

Geonhak would think he’s sloppy. This cannot happen.

So Hwanwoong dresses up. He wears plaid and cuffed jeans, because Seungkwan tells him it’s peak bisexual culture, and he’s trying to make a point. If he could sprinkle pink, purple and blue glitter all over his face he would, too, but none of his friends have it, so he hopes he’s making enough of a statement as it is. Keonhee seems to think so, too.

“You look hot,” he comments, naturally, as if he’s talking about the weather. He’s looking good, too — he’s wearing a crop top with a thin black see-through tank top underneath it, his hair is pushed to the side and the way his waist is cinched gives the impression his legs are longer than they already are. 

“You too,” Hwanwoong replies, less seamless, still true "Are we good to go?"

Keonhee nods. They grab their stuff, which consists of their keys plus money to buy booze, and meet their friends downstairs. 

Changmin's wearing a black shirt and dark pants, which wouldn't have been too far from his usual looks, had it not been for his makeup, a smokey eye that made him look dangerous. Juyeon is wearing a leather jacket, simple jeans and a bare face, crazy handsome regardless. Kevin chose a simple look as well, a shirt that was probably Beyoncé tour merchandise and shorts to match. Chanhee, surprisingly, is wearing an all-denim look. He must be trying to prove a point, because his outfit manages to be tasteful and stylish regardless, the glitter under his eyes a nice touch.

Keonhee crosses his arms. "You did this on purpose."

"Maybe so," Chanhee smirks, puts his hands on his pockets "Don't you think he looks good, though?"

Juyeon nods emphatically. "Of course."

"Absolutely," Kevin says, a little breathless.

Chanhee grins, Cheshire-like. "See? Be thankful."

Keonhee lets out a noise, something between a long-suffering sigh and an embarrassed squeak. His ears are red. "Thank you, Chanhee. Can we go now?"

They go. The party is full when they arrive, the lights flashing with bright colors as pop music blasts through the speakers. Their classmates seem to be drunk already, behaving in a way friendlier manner than they did during orientation week. Hwanwoong assesses the surroundings — they are at one of the houses near campus, because apparently someone on the welcoming committee owns it and made arrangements so the place would be available today, free of charge. They are mostly hanging out at the backyard, Minnie on a makeshift DJ booth and Yerin as their tentative bartender, but some people are chatting idly in the living room, sitting on the large couch and chatting in a less crowded environment.

Hwanwoong doesn't waste time before buying himself booze, a cheap bottle of lemon flavored vodka he intends on sharing with his friends, brings Kevin with him. He notes, with a tinge of disappointment, that Geonhak is nowhere to be found. Hwanwoong hopes he’s only late and didn’t give up on coming to the party altogether while Kevin pats his back consolingly.

When they go back to where their friends are, a couple of people are already blending with their small group. 

One boy he has never seen before is dancing with Changmin, his intentions obvious as he moves closer, his body language purposefully open. Changmin’s grinning, which means he either noticed it and is playing dumb or he’s oblivious but is having the time of his life regardless. Hwanwoong laughs quietly at the situation as he downs his first shot. 

Keonhee’s situation is even worse, because he’s a natural at socializing and he looks stunning, so everyone who’s not directly ogling him is trying to gain his attention, through casual conversation or shameless flirting. He is probably thinking they’re just being nice, replies to the compliments with the same level of enthusiasm. 

Chanhee scowls, snatches the bottle out of Hwanwoong’s hands and pours a lot of it on his cup.

“Easy, tiger,” Kevin says, smiling “The night’s just starting.”

“And I’m already sick of it,” Chanhee mutters.

Hwanwoong laughs, drinks his second shot. He hasn’t had alcohol in a while, so he supposes he’ll start getting tipsy anytime soon. “C’mon, let’s dance! Where’s Juyeonie?”

Chanhee points to the living room, where Juyeon is kissing a girl on the couch.

Kevin whistles. “Fast.”

“They’re enjoying themselves,” Hwanwoong argues “We should do the same.”

After they drink a reasonable amount of alcohol, Hwanwoong’s coaxing works and they go to the middle of the dance floor, almost bumping on Chungha and two other taller girls as they dance clumsily to a Lady Gaga remix. Hwanwoong enjoys drinking because while he’s not an introvert per se, he’s always been painfully self-conscious, afraid of how people would perceive him. When he’s drunk, he turns off the filters inside his head and allows himself to have fun. He starts voguing unprompted now, knowing fully well he’s far from an expert on the genre, and drowns out the cackling from Chanhee and Kevin.

They’re having fun, too, Hwanwoong assures himself. They’re not laughing _at_ him, they’re laughing _with_ him, and he confirms this as Chungha tries to teach Kevin waacking and he ends up flailing his arms around in a way that’s far from sharp or elegant. Soon enough Keonhee joins them with three other freshmen, turning the dance floor into a workshop, and Hwanwoong is teaching them how to do a perfect pirouette when he sees a familiar figure walking through the door.

It’s not Geonhak.

Hwanwoong feels all the air leave his lungs in one go. What the fuck is he doing here?

“Can you show us how to do it one more time?” Chanhee asks, touching Hwanwoong’s arm lightly “I didn’t catch it.”

“You’ll never catch it,” Changmin teases “You’re bad enough at dancing when you’re sober!”

Hwanwoong tunes out their teasing, letting it become white noise. Had it not been for his knees buckling, his hands shaking, he’d have thought his body functions stopped in its entirety. His heart stopped pumping blood, the color drained out of his face, the thoughts swirling inside his brain coming to a halt.

He’s heard that saying, before, of how the past always catches up to you no matter how hard you run away from it. However, he hadn’t expected the saying to be literally, palpably true.

As literally, palpably true as the Lee Seoho standing right in front of him.

Hwanwoong’s overreacting, he knows. It’s the alcohol, heightening his every emotion, making things seem like a big deal when they aren’t. There are plenty of reasons why Seoho could be here — after all, Hwanwoong did know they went to the same university. Seoho must’ve been called to come over by friends, judging by the way a girl ran to tackle him into a hug, a lot of people greeting him from afar. Any unwished interactions could be avoided and there are no reasons for Hwanwoong to panic.

However, he really needs to run away, and he doesn’t know how to do it without drawing attention to himself. He turns to Keonhee and tries not to sound alarmed. “Something happened.”

Keonhee frowns, worried. “What happened, babe?”

Hwanwoong grabs his roommate by his wrist and brings him to a dimly lit spot in the backyard, behind a tree. He’s well aware he must’ve left their friends feeling confused, but he can’t find rationality within him right now, which is terrifying on its own. “I’m freaking out.”

“I noticed that,” Keonhee says, softly, not mocking “What’s wrong?”

“Long story short? I liked this guy in high school, we were really good friends, but he was straight, so I drifted away from him when he graduated. We had plans to go to the same university, and I heard he got in, but somehow I didn’t expect to meet him here and now I’m panicking because this is going to be the most awkward thing in the history of the universe,” Hwanwoong blurts out, probably the fastest he has ever talked.

Keonhee tilts his head to the side. “You still like him?”

“No! But, um, I don’t know, it’s weird! I had my guard down, I was twirling and shit,” Hwanwoong wipes his sweaty hands on his pants, his heartbeats ringing louder than the music.

“Okay, listen,” Keonhee puts a hand on Hwanwoong’s shoulders, the one he’s not using to hold his beer “We’re all drunk, about to be or wanting to be. Your former crush is here, there’s nothing to do about that. You’ll go out there, you’ll ignore his existence unless he addresses you directly, you’ll dance and you’ll have fun. Alright?”

Hwanwoong opens his mouth to respond, but he feels someone poking his back. 

Chanhee is there, an unimpressed glower on his face as he looks at them. “Geonhak’s asking for you.”

“Shit,” Hwanwoong swears, tries to internalize Keonhee’s advice. Seoho belongs to his past, and this is his present, his future. He takes a deep breath. “Okay, um, where is he?”

“Living room,” Chanhee says, evenly. He looks bothered by something, but Hwanwoong doesn’t have the time nor the mental strength to clear up any misunderstandings. His thoughts are scattered, all over the place, as he walks to the living room. 

And then he stops. 

He doesn’t physically stop, because it’d be weird, so he keeps walking, walks until he’s standing in front of Geonhak. He looks as incredible as always, wearing a tight black shirt and jeans, his glasses on the tip of his nose for some reason. He’s wearing a silver bracelet around his wrist, an arm wrapped around Seoho, who’s also wearing the exact same bracelet. They must be either really close friends or buy jewelry at the same place.

Hwanwoong has an eye for detail, you know. He wishes he hadn’t.

Seoho looks at Hwanwoong, mouth ajar, shock written all over his features, but Hwanwoong doesn’t know whether he looks shocked himself or not. He’s, for the first time in a while, completely unaware of how he’s coming off. His mind has stopped functioning, his previously swirling thoughts now coming to a halt. 

Seoho looks good, Hwanwoong processes, subconsciously. His hair is black now, and it suits him.

“Woongie?” he asks, of course he asks. He sounds odd, too, probably because of the drink he has in his hands. Hwanwoong never really saw him drunk, back then.

Hwanwoong waves, dorky, not trusting his mouth to say anything of substance.

“You guys know each other?” Geonhak frowns, his eyes darting between the two of them. Seoho’s hand is resting on his thigh, a casual display of affection that is unlike him — unlike what he used to be.

Hwanwoong really needs to stop staring. 

“Yup,” Seoho answers, staring back “We went to school together. Theater club.”

A really nonchalant way to describe it, really, but Hwanwoong guesses he deserves the indifference.

“Oh!” Geonhak realizes, a bright grin blooming on his face “He’s that guy you told me about?”

Seoho nods. Geonhak smiles even wider. “Such a coincidence! I don’t even need to introduce you, then.”

“Maybe you do,” Hwanwoong manages to croak out “Two years is a really long time.”

Geonhak laughs. “Okay, then. Seoho, this is Hwanwoong, my favorite freshman.”

Hwanwoong’s traitorous heart stutters. He turns to Seoho and bows, thanking alcohol for helping him sound playful instead of awkward. “Nice to meet you.”

“And Hwanwoong,” Geonhak continues, his eyes turning sweet, soft “This is Seoho, my boyfriend.”

Had Hwanwoong been drinking, he would’ve done a spit take. However, he’s not, so he can only feel the air getting knocked out of his lungs for what seems like the hundredth time in the past twenty minutes.

Seoho’s smirk is wolfish, downright evil. “Nice to meet you.”

Hwanwoong guesses he deserves this, too.

...

  
  


Things feel like a lucid dream for the rest of the night.

Geonhak is an amazingly skilled buffer, enthusiastic about how it’s such a happy coincidence that they ended up in the same college despite having lost touch. He tries relentlessly to drag embarrassing stories about Seoho out of Hwanwoong, and while there’s a lot of material to share, he can’t find within himself to share those memories without thinking of how he used to see Seoho with the most ridiculous rose-tinted glasses.

He’s gotten even more handsome, matured beautifully into an adult, a man. A man who is dating another.

As a good earth sign, Hwanwoong loves certainties and facts. He finds comfort in being sure of things — he’s sure the sky is blue, he’s sure the sun shines during the day and the moon glows during the night, he’s sure birds fly and chickens lay eggs and giraffes have long necks and penguins live in cold environments.

He used to be sure Seoho was straight. An one hundred percent heterosexual male, as uninterested in men as they came. This knowledge, this certainty, guided most of Hwanwoong’s actions back then — he never owned up to his feelings because he felt like it was pointless to ruin a perfectly good friendship for something he already knew the answer to. He distanced himself from Seoho the moment the older graduated, because he thought it was for the best for both of them.

This new development — Seoho spinning on Geonhak’s arms, looking at him so tenderly as they kept on fake bickering — only goes to show whichever deity is responsible for Hwanwoong’s destiny is sick and twisted. 

Seoho having a boyfriend is enough of a punishment, but his boyfriend being Geonhak, the most ideal man in existence, who has been painfully nice and pleasant to Hwanwoong throughout this past week… It’s a surreal brand of unluckiness. He must’ve been cursed.

He gets away from the conversation with the excuse that he needs to take care of his friends, tries to ignore the fact Seoho was probably staring daggers at his back right now, because he can’t begin to unpack how awkward the atmosphere between them would’ve been had Geonhak not been there, and how it bothers Hwanwoong, and _why_ it bothers Hwanwoong. Instead, he walks to the backyard with wobbly feet and a small soju bottle in his hands, determined to forget.

Changmin finds him first and gestures for him to join them. They’re standing around a bench where Keonhee has Chanhee clumsily sitting on his lap, Kevin is leaning against Changmin for balance and Juyeon is telling them a story about how he met the girl he was previously making out with. 

“There you are!” Keonhee says, and Hwanwoong’s eye for detail notices smudged gloss, a faint red mark on the line of his neck.

Oh.

Hwanwoong grins, unable to help himself, looks at Chanhee who’s pointedly staring at the hole in Keonhee’s jeans and not looking at anyone in the eye. “Hello.”

“Don’t even start,” Keonhee warns, but his voice comes out bubbly, drunkenness and post-making out haze washing out every stern bone on his body.

“I wasn’t going to,” Hwanwoong lies through his teeth, because he absolutely was going to “At least one of us is having fun. Remember that guy I told you about?”

“Hey, keep us posted,” Kevin demands, also already past the point of tipsy, his ears and cheeks red.

Changmin giggles. “What he said.”

“Hwanwoong’s high school crush is our senior and he’s here,” Keonhee tells them, no filter at all “What about him?”

Hwanwoong takes a sip of his soju, bracing himself to say it out loud. When you voice something to other people, it makes you sure whatever happened is not a figment of your imagination. It’s turned into reality. “Geonhak’s dating him.”

Silence. Juyeon reacts first, because he’s right next to him, envelops him in a warm half-hug. “This sucks, dude.”

Somewhere inside his muddled brain, Hwanwoong realizes he had never told anyone about being interested in Geonhak, but he imagines he must’ve been too obvious. Hwanwoong half-heartedly returns the hug. “Thanks, Juyeonie. It does suck, yeah.”

“Do you wanna go home?” Keonhee asks, softly “We could go.”

Hwanwoong shakes his head. “I need to start getting used to seeing them, I guess. Plus we were having so much fun before everything happened, I don’t wanna ruin the night for you guys.”

“You wouldn’t ruin anything,” Chanhee, surprisingly, is the one to reassure him “We’ll have plenty of parties throughout the next four years, really. If you wanna leave, say the word.”

Hwanwoong feels touched at the consideration these virtual strangers have been showing him, over and over, yet he’s not drunk enough to be overly affectionate and make a fool of himself, so. “It’s alright, really. I’ll try and have fun.”

It’s hard, though. His eyes automatically drift towards Geonhak and Seoho, who seem to be everywhere at the same time. They seem like such a fun couple, dancing smoothly and yelling to the rhythm of their favorite songs and cracking jokes with their friends and stealing kisses and touches when they think no one is watching. At some point, they give up on avoiding drawing attention and start making out on the couch, and Hwanwoong can’t help but stare, heat pooling up inside his stomach. 

They’re in love. It’s clear as a day for anyone with eyes. 

Hwanwoong can’t pinpoint why he accepts so readily when a drunk senior asks if he could kiss him. He’s handsy, the way he holds Hwanwoong too eager and awkward, but Hwanwoong’s not sober either, so he rolls with the punches, lets himself be grabbed and half-heartedly tries to slow down his rhythm. They part, breathless, and Changmin calls for Hwanwoong right away, almost as if sensing how uncomfortable he is. 

“You really don’t wanna go home?” Changmin asks, hands on his waist to keep him in place. Not only did he have even more to drink than Hwanwoong, he also ate edibles at the beginning of the party. 

It’s a wonder he’s still steady. 

And warm. And smells nice. 

His arms are surprisingly strong, too. 

Going home seems so nice right now, though. Hwanwoong wants to take a cold shower and put on his pajamas and go to sleep and sort out his feelings in the morning.

So he nods.

...

Family dinners in the Yeo residence are a painfully passive-aggressive ordeal.

His parents aren’t the type to directly talk about what’s bothering them, instead they exchange judging glances and give him backhanded compliments and try to manipulate him into choosing what they think it’s best. After years of trying to navigate their fucked up dynamics, Hwanwoong has grown used to it, to the charged silences and to the mean advice disguised as parental worry. 

However, him being hungover makes the task harder. He had promised his parents he’d come home as often as he could, and since his classes hadn’t even started yet, he couldn’t give out any university-related excuses. Plus they told him they wanted to see him on Saturday to see if he’s dealing well with the change, which is code for monitoring and nitpicking at every single one of his choices. Thankfully, Hwanwoong is an actor, and his ability to bullshit his way into making people believe him translates just as well off stage, so his parents don’t notice his throbbing headache, don’t notice he’s barely touched his food, dismiss it as him being tired from the eventful week he had.

And if he’s technical about it, he’s not lying. He’s just found out the boy he had a crush on throughout most of high school and the senior he has the hots for are dating. It’s reasonable of him to be overwhelmed.

When Hwanwoong lays down on his childhood bed, he wonders if he should talk to Seoho.

Geonhak had warmed up to Hwanwoong in a platonic sense of the word, otherwise he wouldn’t have introduced him to his boyfriend. They’d keep going to the same places, keep bumping on each other, and if Geonhak is as close to Seoho as he looked like he was during the party, things could become awkward with the tension between _his favorite freshman_ and the man he loves. 

No matter how you look at it, it was Hwanwoong who drifted away. Hwanwoong who purposefully refused to let their friendship blossom beyond high school. Because Seoho seemed so detached, Hwanwoong hadn’t felt guilty about keeping to himself, but the way Seoho had looked at him that night sent shivers through his entire body, and not the exciting kind. 

He opens KakaoTalk. Seoho’s contact is still there, his last message making Hwanwoong’s chest tighten.

**lee seoho** : i miss you :(

Hwanwoong can’t put his finger on the exact reason he’s compelled to reach out to Seoho, anyways. He liked the guy once upon a time, but so much can change in two years. Hwanwoong can attest to the huge character development he’s had from then to now, so he can’t claim to know Seoho anymore. Although his face and voice and laughter are all so familiar, he must be an entirely different guy now.

Deep inside, Hwanwoong wants to figure out what kind of person Seoho became, for a reason he won’t bring himself to examine anytime soon.

Hwanwoong tells himself he wants to apologize, too, for being a bad friend, but he doesn’t quite regret that part of it. Back then, he had thought he was backing off for self-preservation, to avoid ruining their friendship, and he has yet to confirm Seoho was actually wounded by it. 

Hwanwoong types up a message and sends it before he can talk himself out of it. 

**hwanwoong** : Hello?

**lee seoho** : not you lmao

**hwanwoong** : Yes me

 **hwanwoong** : Can we talk?

**lee seoho** : about what?

**hwanwoong** : I don’t know

 **hwanwoong** : About how we stopped talking?

**lee seoho** : that’s all your fault though?

He’s not wrong. Hwanwoong gulps down, scared he’ll get the metaphorical door shut on his face before he even properly attempts to make amends. 

**hwanwoong** : I know. I wanna tell you why I did it

 **hwanwoong** : I don’t want things to be awkward or bad between us

 **hwanwoong** : We could have this conversation in person if you’re willing

**lee seoho** : fine

 **lee seoho** : geonhak told me you’re living in the dorms, should i meet you there?

**hwanwoong** : No!! I’m at my parents’ right now

 **hwanwoong** : I’ll go back to the dorms tomorrow after lunch, we could meet then?

**lee seoho** : alright. text me when you’re free

Hwanwoong feels his heart hammering against his ribcage, constricted and erratic. There’s a nagging voice at the back of his mind wondering if he made the right decision, setting up this date between them, but he ignores it. 

What’s done is done, and he’ll deal with the consequences in its own time.

Seoho’s expression is guarded as he enters the coffee shop. His black hair is windswept, pointing everywhere, his face bare. His skin has a healthier glow to it now, less pimples and blemishes scattered across his face and arms. He’s wearing a trench coat and dark pants, hands inside his pockets as he walks to the counter and orders.

He’s beautiful, in a way that’s familiar and intimidating at the same time. He shouldn’t have the effect he’s having on Hwanwoong, shouldn’t still be able to make him nervous considering he’s now in a committed relationship, but his grip on his Americano gets tighter as Seoho moves closer, threatening to spill coffee on his new shorts.

“Hey,” Seoho greets him bemusedly, takes the chair in front of him.

“Hi,” Hwanwoong refuses to acknowledge the weak, uncertain quality to his voice right now “Have you eaten?”

“Yup, Youngjo made us something,” Seoho smiles. It seems like he’s incapable of staying serious for too long, as cautious as he’s trying to be “You do remember Youngjo? We’re living together now. We used to share the apartment just the two of us, but then Geonhak had a problem with his other roommates and he moved to our place.”

Hwanwoong hums in thought. He misses Youngjo, he’s glad he’s okay. “That’s nice. He mentioned he likes living with you guys.”

“Of course he does,” Seoho says, dismissive “Now, that’s not the reason I came here, is it?”

Hwanwoong takes a sip of his coffee, tries to work the nerve to be as honest as possible. “I, um, wanted to say sorry. We were friends, and I pushed you away and you didn’t deserve it. I think I did it because I thought it wouldn’t matter to you anyways? You were about to join college and you had no use for a kid still in high school as a friend. I felt like you’d make that choice anyways, so I wanted to get ahead of you."

"That was stupid," Seoho deadpans, although something less sharp flashes across his features.

"I know," Hwanwoong sighs "I was a dumb kid, I was insecure and I thought I was doing what was best."

The waitress comes with Seoho's order before he can continue the conversation, and he thanks her softly and takes the plastic cup on his hands. He's still easily embarrassed, his eyes disappearing into crescents when he smiles.

Hwanwoong's heart is traitorous, skips easily at that like it used to. 

Seoho looks at him, his gaze searching, questioning. "It might sound pathetic now, thinking about it, but I really thought of you as my friend. It hurt, Hwanwoong."

"I'm sorry," Hwanwoong mumbles. He feels guilt nibbling at his insides, knowing he had ghosted someone who cared about him. 

"I can get past that," Seoho admits, reluctant "I can tell you changed, I shouldn't hold the shit you did when you were sixteen against you. I'm willing to be friends with you again, or at least be on friendly terms."

Hwanwoong blinks. "Yeah?"

Seoho nods, and that's when his stare grows burning, a dangerous edge to it. "If you do the same to Geonhak, I'll kill you. Seriously."

"I won't," Hwanwoong brings a hand to his chest as if making a vow "I swear I won't."

"His heart is bigger than mine," Seoho continues, a grin blooming on his face as he speaks of his boyfriend "Did he tell you why he's on the welcoming committee in the first place?"

"He mentioned it," Hwanwoong's cheeks heat up as he remembers that moment, how endeared he felt "He's really kind."

"He's _too_ kind," Seoho corrects him "He doesn't deserve getting hurt, and he has taken to you already. You must've figured that out, you're a smart kid. Don't hurt him, don't close yourself off based on your own baseless assumptions, otherwise I will be skinning you alive. Not joking."

"Don't worry about it," Hwanwoong thinks of how he'd rather walk through lava barefoot than risk hurting Geonhak on purpose, wishes he could express that somehow without telling on himself.

Instead he sips on his coffee and hopes Seoho still has it in him to trust.

...

The predicament Hwanwoong finds himself in after this fateful encounter is a little surreal.

“Hwanwoongie!” Youngjo tackles him into a bear hug, because of course he would. The cadence of his voice remains soft and welcoming, but his appearance has changed, his features became sharper, manlier. Hwanwoong wonders if they noticed the change in him, too, in attitude if not in appearance. 

Geonhak chuckles; it’s a deep, throaty sound. “Let him breathe.”

“Ah, sure,” Youngjo lets go of him, beaming regardless. He has an apron loosely tied across his waist, which is a wonder because he used to be such a terrible cook in high school. 

When Seoho had told him he’d start allowing Hwanwoong back into his life, he had thought it’d be an easy transition. Greeting each other in the hallways, exchanging small talk at parties, reminiscing about the old times when drunk. None of these included inviting him to hang out at their place, because Youngjo had stress baked the night before and now there was way more food than the three of them could ever eat. Seoho made it clear he was only offering because Geonhak asked him to, but Hwanwoong will take whatever he gets.

Geonhak is dressed casually, wearing a large t-shirt and short shorts that showed off his thick thighs, his strong legs, in such a way that Hwanwoong has a hard time stopping himself from staring. Seoho is in the kitchen grabbing some plates, startles when Hwanwoong asks if he needs help.

“No, thanks,” Seoho grumbles. He’s wearing light blue pajamas and he looks warm, cozy, so his attitude isn’t too jarring. It’s like dealing with a particularly rude teddy bear. They go back to the living room, where Geonhak and Youngjo are arguing about the characters of an anime they both watched. Seoho seems amused by the exchange, giggling as he cuts chocolate cake slices for them.

Youngjo really did improve his cooking, Hwanwoong comments in between bites. “This tastes amazing. How did you learn?”

“After I graduated, I kinda went through an identity crisis, so I tried a little bit of everything,” Youngjo explains “Including joining a cooking class. For an entire year, it was me and a couple of old ladies trying to figure out how to use the food mixer, but I pushed through.”

“In all levels but physical, you are an old lady,” Seoho quips, chewing happily on his cake.

Youngjo rolls his eyes, the very picture of exasperatedly fond. “I used to cook some horrible meals before, in school,” he tells Geonhak, for context “I made lots of it, to share with my friends from the theater club. Since I was in charge there, no one would have dared to say anything bad about it to my face, except your boyfriend. He’d look at me in the eye and say wow, this is really bland.”

Geonhak laughs, leans against his boyfriend’s shoulders. “Constructive criticism!”

“Wasn’t really constructive,” Seoho confesses, wraps an arm around Geonhak to play with his hair comfortably “I used to be quite mean back then. I don’t know how I had friends.”

“You weren’t that mean,” Hwanwoong assures him, then realizes maybe this would sound forced coming from the guy who stopped talking to him out of nowhere and stops.

However, Seoho raises his eyebrows. “I wasn’t?”

It seems like a test. “Yup. Maybe I was a bit of an asshole, too, so we matched in that sense.”

Those aren’t the truest words he has ever spoken, a washed down, untrue way to speak of the affection Hwanwoong harbored towards Seoho, and how nice and relaxing it was to be around him, but he didn’t want to risk making Geonhak jealous or uneasy.

“I don’t believe either of you,” Geonhak says, though, looking unbothered.

Seoho has a mischievous smirk tugging at his lips as he nuzzles Geonhak's neck, making him giggle. “Well, you’re obsessed with me, so.”

Hwanwoong finds it hard to look away from them whenever they are together. He fears they’ll think he’sa creep, with how obvious he is about the both of them affecting him, but he can’t help himself — it’s such a new thing, to see Seoho so unapologetically soft, so vulnerable, so physical. Of course it would’ve been Geonhak and his unwavering kindness to get him to open up to loving, to being loved. 

They seem to complete each other, like pieces of a puzzle, and he would have to be insanely selfish to want to get in their way.

And he doesn’t want to, not really. He doesn’t quite know what he wants yet.

Seoho snaps his fingers in front of his eyes. “Hello? Earth to Hwanwoong?”

Hwanwoong blinks. “What?”

Geonhak smiles sweetly at him. “I said you can sit closer if you want to.”

Hwanwoong had barely processed Youngjo leaving to his bedroom, all the stress baking taking a toll on him. “Um, I’m good, I think. Sorry. I just spaced out.”

“It’s cold,” Seoho comments, bemused “Aren’t you cold, Geonhakie?”

Geonhak nods, making an almost herculean effort to stay serious. “Very cold.”

Hwanwoong’s cheeks heat up immediately, aware of the fact it is scorching hot outside. “I guess it's a bit chilly?”

“Come here,” Geonhak pats the spot next to him on the couch. Hwanwoong reluctantly does what he's told, feeling the warmth radiating off of him in waves. Seoho is watching the news on the other side of the couch, peaceful as he munches on another slice of cake, absentmindedly running his fingers through Geonhak's hair.

Hwanwoong suppresses a shiver. He's really in for a ride, isn't he?

...

"Are they monogamous, though?" Keonhee asks. They're eating at that pizza place near campus after class, only the two of them, because Changmin claimed roommate bonding time with Chanhee, which means dragging him to watch the latest Annabelle movie.

So Hwanwoong takes the time to complain about the shithole he's found himself in, developing complicated feelings for two halves of a couple. He frowns. "What's that?" 

"They don't necessarily need to be exclusively dating each other to be a couple. Maybe it's an open relationship," Keonhee suggests. That's his unwavering optimism talking, which is why they make such an amazing duo anyways, with Hwanwoong thinking the worst case scenario is going to happen at all times while Keonhee searches frantically for the bright side in every situation, even in those who don't have one.

Hwanwoong scoffs. "Wouldn't they have hooked up with other people at the party if that was the case?"

"Maybe not," Keonhee retorts, putting an unhealthy amount of ketchup on his slice "Open relationships aren't one size fits all, they work differently, with different arrangements between each one of them. And sometimes people just aren’t in the mood! You’re reaching.”

“I’m not reaching,” Hwanwoong picks up a slice and puts it on his plate “What I am doing is not letting you make me delusional.”

Keonhee crosses his arms. “Stop being a raging pessimist for a second and tell me why, rationally, them being in an open relationship is impossible. I’ll wait.”

Hwanwoong racks through the folders of his brain for reasons why this is an absurd possibility.

It’s nearing the end of the semester, now, and Hwanwoong is settled enough into his routine. He wakes up early in the morning, meets up with Geonhak and they run laps around campus together. Hwanwoong hadn’t planned on that becoming a thing, but Geonhak had complained to him about Seoho always sleeping in and refusing to even jog with him because he can’t stand being sweaty. Hwanwoong would be lying if he said he doesn’t like how their mornings usually go, wrapped in comfortable silence, Geonhak being considerate enough to adjust to Hwanwoong’s slower pace.

Then he walks back to the dorms, gossips with Keonhee on the line to use the bathroom, showers, sorts out his outfit for the day, waits for Changmin and Chanhee to get ready. They walk to their building, the four of them, and meet Juyeon and Kevin to chat idly before class starts. Most of his classes aren't as practical as he expected, yet he was still able to enjoy them, too much of an overachiever to slack off on his readings. He's in a bit of a rush right now, unsure if he'll be able to handle the amount of assignments he has due, doing more studying than usual. Than he ever did in his entire life, probably.

Which brings him to the weekends. Before, his weekends were spent either being mentally tortured by his parents or attending questionable parties with his friends. He would spend his Sunday mornings either reading overly complicated articles or curing his hungover spirit watching So You Think You Can Dance reruns. Now, with Seoho and Geonhak woven into his personal schedule, things are different. They hang out at their place, Seoho helping Hwanwoong with theater history as Geonhak makes him a steamy mug of hot chocolate. When Hwanwoong isn’t too cramped with schoolwork, they watch movies, usually some low-budget productions made by Youngjo’s up-and-coming director friends. Seoho works at a gaming shop, so sometimes Geonhak drops by to bother him and calls Hwanwoong so they’ll have dinner together later.

But here’s the thing: they _are_ friends. Most couples, after a while, grow so obsessed with their romantic connection, it’s hard to figure out why the hell they grew close in the first place. However, that’s not the case for Geonhak and Seoho — they have a solid platonic foundation to their relationship. They play League of Legends together, they watch questionably violent anime together, they go to the gym together. They enjoy each other's company, even if they’re not making out all the time. 

They don’t treat Youngjo like a third wheel, for instance, instead they incorporate him into their daily lives in a way that makes them resemble a friend group rather than a couple and their single friend. Which is nice, you know. Hwanwoong simply has yet to understand what’s his own role in the mix.

Hwanwoong’s pizza slice lays on his plate, untouched. He takes a bite, lost in thought, notices they made the dough thicker this time around. 

“No arguments?” Keonhee pokes him on the ribs.

Hwanwoong rolls his eyes. “Okay, fine. Let’s work with your fairytale polyamorous theory. I still have no way of knowing if they’re open or not.”

“Um, asking?” Keonhee stares at his roommate like he’s the stupidest person in the world. 

Hwanwoong snorts in disbelief. “Asking them? I’d rather die.”

“You’re being so dramatic,” Keonhee takes a sip of soda through a plastic straw.

It’s easy for him to say — Hwanwoong pretty much gave him a boyfriend, his life is way less complicated. “I’d rather be skinned alive and dipped in acid, Keonhee. If they’re not in an open relationship, I’ll be the one looking like a slut.”

“You already look the part without opening your mouth,” Keonhee retorts, grinning when Hwanwoong glares at him “Nah, okay, fine, you’re not comfortable with asking them, that’s valid. Why don’t you ask their friend?”

He means Youngjo. Hwanwoong shakes his head. “Their friend lives with them. Seoho knows him since they were both middle schoolers. Why would their friend keep anything from them?”

“Man, this is difficult,” Keonhee complains, resting his face on his hands “Should I hire Changmin’s services? He’s a great gossip.”

Hwanwoong runs a hand through his unkempt hair, nervous. “I need to make sure of how I feel first.”

“Whatever you say,” Keonhee says.

…

Hwanwoong stares at his reflection. 

On a rare act of kindness, his parents bought him a tall mirror as an early birthday gift, because they know he likes taking full body pictures and they correctly assumed there wouldn’t be anything of the sort in the dorms. They do have a mirror on the third floor bathroom that could be suitable, had it not been also dirty and broken for whatever reasons.

So he has his own, and he keeps it clean, safe from any harm. It has emotional meaning for him, too, since his parents had no ulterior motives for this, just wanting to treat their son with something nice.

However. He can now face the rash decision he has made in high definition.

“You’re overreacting,” Keonhee deadpans before making his way to Chanhee and Changmin’s room, probably to ask them to help him pick out his outfit while Hwanwoong is having a meltdown.

Hwanwoong’s hair is now platinum blond with pastel colored streaks — green, pink, purple, blue. He doesn’t know what kind of demon possessed him to dye his hair in such jarring colors, really. Something in him had awakened yesterday, out of nowhere, and he wanted to change something about his appearance. He had just landed a job babysitting his distant cousin’s kid so he had enough money to go to the hair shop and ruin his life on an impulse. To top it all off, he got a lip ring, because he saw it in a photoshoot and thought the models looked sexy with it. He should’ve known better than to change his appearance based on what he had seen on a gossip magazine, but whatever is done, is done. 

They have a party to go to today, though. Not just any party — the party the welcoming committee is throwing to celebrate them ending this semester in one piece. 

If it’s a welcoming committee party, Geonhak would surely be there. If Geonhak was there, Seoho would be there, too. They’d look at him, think he looked ridiculous and whatever possibility of him having a chance would fly out of the window. Not that such a possibility exists.

Organizing parties sure is demanding, because Geonhak has been absent these last few weeks. He skips their morning jogs, doesn’t drop by the gaming shop to pester Seoho, which forces him and Hwanwoong to get used to each other's company again. Once, they were studying together and he caught a glimpse of Seoho’s phone: he had changed Hwanwoong’s contact from _yeo hwanwoong_ to _sharpay_ , which is incredible progress. 

Maybe too incredible. 

Getting to know the new Lee Seoho isn’t good for Hwanwoong’s health. In the end, Seoho hasn’t changed much: or maybe he did, but for the better. He’s kinder, more considerate, warmer, better at expressing his feelings. He takes situations seriously more often, yet never lost what made him funny, pleasant to be around, special. He’s still cutting, still sarcastic, still chaotic, still not prone to initiating physical contact.

The boy Hwanwoong has fallen for, and so much more.

And Geonhak…

“Let me see you, baby!” Changmin interrupts his train of thought, bursting through the door as if it’shis own room. 

It’s so sudden Hwanwoong doesn’t have time to cover himself, because he was lying on the floor in his boxers, or cover his hair, or his face. He does sit up straight, though.

Changmin looks at him from top to bottom, his gaze going from surprised to dark in a matter of seconds. “What the _fuck_.”

“What’s with this reaction?” Hwanwoong asks, his voice squeaky.

“It’s a good what the fuck,” Changmin answers readily “But wait. Put some clothes on, maybe I was distracted.”

Hwanwoong grabs his old cotton robe inside his wardrobe and wears it quickly, aware of Changmin actively checking him out. Which didn’t feel bad at all, but you never can be too wary of a Scorpio. “Now? What’s the verdict?”

Changmin smirks. “No, yeah, I was right. You look amazing. Why are you freaking out?”

“I don’t know,” Hwanwoong sits on the tip of his bed, taps the spot by his side so Changmin will sit next to him.

“You don’t know if you look amazing?”

“That, too,” Hwanwoong laughs weakly “But I don’t know why I’m freaking out. My parents are gonna lose their minds, but I’m not even worried about them.”

“Then you have nothing to worry about!” Changmin says, unwavering “Listen, if you looked bad, I would tell you, yeah? We wouldtry to fix it somehow, make you wear a hat, whatever. But we don’t need to do that, because you look good. Better than good, to be honest, but your ego is already big enough without my help.”

“Little shit,” Hwanwoong smacks him in the arm, smiling “Thank you. I’ll try not to freak out.”

…

 **geonhak uni** : Woongie

 **geonhak uni** : Do you want me to come pick you up?

Hwanwoong freaks out. 

It’s 9PM and he’s already ready, wearing an oversized white t-shirt tucked inside his jeans, figuring there’s already too much going on with his hair and makeup to invest on a flashy outfit. He’s wearing glitter on his face, sparkling on his cheek as he looks at himself in the mirror, and a subtle shimmer shadow with light brown tones on his eyes.

This time around, the venue the welcoming committee is hosting the party at is farther from the campus. It’s within walking distance from Kevin’s place, though, which will be where Hwanwoong and Keonhee will stay if it gets too late, for practicality reasons. They agreed on sharing an Uber with Chanhee and Changmin to go there, though, and if Hwanwoong accepts Geonhak’s ride, his friends will have to pay more than they planned. It could be inconvenient.

Hwanwoong pouts. He misses Geonhak so much, wants to see him, isn’t even scared of how he’ll react when he sees how Hwanwoong looks. 

Geonhak can be harsh, you see, but never mean. He’s loose-lipped, too truthful, has gotten in a handful of sticky situations because of his short temper, his lack of a filter, how easy it is to rile him up until he snaps. It wasn’t hard for Hwanwoong to see that side of his, but Geonhak treats the newcomers with the utmost kindness, knowing how scary it is to join a new environment, and saves his attitude for who he’s close with.

He’s not the perfect man that Hwanwoong used to think he is — he’s even better. 

**geonhak uni** : Can you not leave me on read!!!

 **geonhak uni** : I’m leaving the house rn

And that’s terrifying.

“Keonhee,” Hwanwoong calls for his roommate, panic undeniably building up on his voice “Geonhak wants to come pick me up?”

Keonhee frowns. “Why’s that a problem? The Uber ride won’t be too expensive, we can share with Harin instead.”

_I think I like him_ , Hwanwoong thinks, desolate. He shoves that thought deep inside his brain, because he’s about to go out and have fun and he doesn’t have the time to dissect what that means, not today. “He’ll think I look like a clown.”

Keonhee pinches the bridge of his nose, annoyed, a rare look on him. “Yeo Hwanwoong, if you don’t tell this man to come pick you up right now, I’ll throw you off this building.”

“There’s only three floors,” Hwanwoong comments, just to be irritating “The fall wouldn’t kill me. It would barely break a couple bones.”

Keonhee stares at him, unimpressed.

He’s spending way too much time with Chanhee, Hwanwoong doesn’t say, afraid he’ll get thrown out of the window for real. “Fine, fine, I’ll text him.”

**hwanwoong** : Yes I’d like that ^^

 **hwanwoong** : Sorry i was getting ready

**geonhak uni** : Too late! I just drove by the campus

**hwanwoong** : You’re shitting me

**geonhak** **uni** : Yes I am shitting you

 **geonhak uni** : Go downstairs already

“He’s here,” Hwanwoong breathes out, the metaphorical butterflies twisting and turning inside him “Wish me luck?”

Keonhee grins. “Good luck! Don’t be a homewrecker.”

“I’ll try not to,” Hwanwoong jokes. He grabs his wallet, his keys, shoves them inside his pocket and walks downstairs, ignoring the appraising looks from his housemates who were still awake. He spots Geonhak and Seoho standing by the car, looking amazing as usual. 

They aren’t ugly, so it’s impossible for them to look too bad, but Hwanwoong wishes they’d look funny, sometimes. Bad makeup, terrible fashion choices, something he could latch onto, to not feel attracted to them as much as he is. Their fashion choices are simple, specially considering the type of aesthetic Acting majors drift towards, yet they never look sloppy — not at parties, at least. Seoho’s black turtleneck is clinging to his body dangerously, and Geonhak’s denim jacket makes him look straight out of a photoshoot.

Neither of them are very good at managing their expressions, keeping a straight face is far from their specialty, so Hwanwoong expects at least some kind of reaction when he moves closer to the car, in case they haven’t recognized him.

He gets one, sort of. Geonhak’s mouth falls open, his eyes burning into Hwanwoong in such an ardent, intense way he can’t help but look away. 

Seoho screeches, because he’s never been one for silences. “You!” 

He doesn’t make a lot of sense, though. Hwanwoong giggles. “Yes, what about me?”

“You look amazing,” Geonhak says, and it’s the way he says it, with his voice low, dazed, adoring. 

Hwanwoong’s cheeks heat up before he can give himself a _don’t be delusional_ pep talk. “Thank you.”

“Get inside the car,” Seoho grumbles, opens the door for him, his ears burning red for whatever reason “I’ll take the backseat, by the way.”

Geonhak stares at him, and even as they spend time together, Hwanwoong can’t read some of their glances. He guesses six months can’t beat two years in that sense.

“I like the backseat!” Seoho argues, arms crossed “It makes me feel like I have a driver.”

Geonhak raises his eyebrows as he slides into the driver’s seat. “Considering only one of us has a license, you do have a driver.”

“My driver is too lazy,” Seoho retorts, smiling playfully “I have to take the bus to go to most places, which is so inconvenient.”

Hwanwoong rides shotgun, the boyfriends’ bickering becoming white noise. He can’t tune it out successfully, though, because Geonhak keeps stealing glances at him when he thinks he’s not watching, and the air between them feels stilted, heavy. Hwanwoong wonders if Seoho took the backseat on purpose, if he's testing them.

Doesn't seem like the case. Neither of them are possessive, controlling types, and if one of them ever showed signs of jealousy, it was never Seoho. He's way too smart to not notice the tension between them, though.

For the first time in a while, Hwanwoong remembers what Keonhee told him that day at the pizzeria. 

_Maybe it's an open relationship_.

Maybe it is. Seoho doesn't care if Geonhak chooses to hang out with Hwanwoong at the campus instead of going to a PC room with him to play games. Geonhak doesn't mind leaving Seoho alone with Hwanwoong in the living room even though they have their history, their baggage. 

However, those could be signs of a healthy relationship, not necessarily one that's polyamorous. And again, he can't ask without tattling on himself, so he has no idea of what to do.

"Oh, we're here," Seoho comments, cheery, blissfully unaware.

…

It's fucking awful, having to hold yourself back from reaching out to someone you want so badly.

The party is incredible. Hwanwoong purposefully stays more around his friends than around Seoho and Geonhak, because their shared car ride made him scared of what he'd do or say near proximity to either of them while drunk. Their friend groups are separated at first, but as alcohol starts working its magic everyone thinks it's a good idea to start chats with people they have never met before. They’re more well-acquainted than they were at the beginning, the freshmen, and it’s easier to flirt and approach whomever they think is pretty.

Hwanwoong hooks up with a couple of people, then. He needed the distraction, and if anyone was willing to provide it to him, he couldn’t see why not. He wakes up in Kevin’s guest room with Changmin next to him, snoring and wrapped around the sheets he pulled away from Hwanwoong during the night. He unlocks his phone to see missed texts from Geonhak, asking to hear from him as soon as possible, and two hysterical voice messages from Seoho, shouting to a Megan Thee Stallion rap with surprising accuracy.

Although he desperately wants to rest, he’s not looking forward to spending summer break with his parents after having tasted the freedom of answering to no one other than his tall, clingy roommate. His tactic is trying to spend as much time outside the house as possible: he finds a job at a clothing store and hangs out with his friends whenever they offer.

He had expected for Geonhak and Seoho to forget about him during these two months, as it’s common for college acquaintances to lose touch when they don’t have to see each other everyday. However, what happens is the opposite — they spend even more time together now than they had before, and Hwanwoong’s attachment to them grows worse as time passes.

“But it’s supposed to be bad!” Seoho raises his hands in frustration, furious in defense of his latest TV obsession, Riverdale. He’s wearing one of Geonhak’s oversized shirts, the ones that make him look way smaller than he actually is, so it’s hard to take him seriously.

“It’s not even bad,” Youngjo mumbles, because he genuinely, unironically, seriously likes Riverdale’s script, which is very precious of him.

Geonhak went to Hwanwoong’s house to pick him up, greeted his parents and everything, clueless to their charged glances and raised eyebrows. Hwanwoong would have to explain, later, that this is a friend of his in a committed relationship and not whatever they think he is. It’s almost funny, the progression of it all — they went from dismissing Hwanwoong’s sexuality as a phase to thinking he’s fucking each and every man he interacts with.

Anyway.

It’s a hot day, so Geonhak stops at the grocery store to buy ice cream and popsicles and a handheld fan. They walk inside the apartment and Youngjo scurries to help them put the things on the fridge. Doesn’t take too long before they’re all sitting on the couch, Geonhak poking fun at Seoho’s appreciation for Jughead as a character, saying his lines are too ridiculous to be taken seriously. 

“It’s cheesy,” Geonhak deadpans.

Seoho groans. “You’re all stupid. Riverdale does _camp_ , it’s a fun show. Like a parody.”

“You could just admit to watching a cheesy show,” Hwanwoong piles in, because aggravating Seoho has been his favorite pastime since he was fifteen “We all have guilty pleasures. You can like something and not think it’s necessarily, objectively good, just entertaining.”

“Stop siding with him!” Seoho nearly whines, arms crossed around his chest “You’ve known me for longer! You should take my side!”

Geonhak wraps an arm around Hwanwoong’s shoulders to pull him closer, his grip firm yet gentle. “Time is nothing against natural chemistry.”

Seoho scoffs. “Please. You do know me and Hwanwoongie acted together before?”

Hwanwoong’s cheeks burn, and he really didn’t think those memories could still have an effect on him. When he looks back at that night, despite his unwavering yearning, he had felt accomplished. Seoho has mentioned he doesn’t have stage fright as bad as he used to do in high school, but the fact that he had managed to do a good job regardless of how deep his insecurities ran was admirable in itself. And Hwanwoong was proud of him. 

Still is. 

“I wish you guys had that on tape,” Geonhak says, one hand on his cheek, fondness dripping on his voice.

Probably thinking about a teenage actor Seoho, Hwanwoong tells himself. The fact he was there too has nothing to do with it. “Don’t,” he chuckles, embarrassed “I wasn’t that good back then.”

Seoho rolls his eyes. “He’s fishing for compliments, Geonhakie. He was really good.”

“I’m not!” Hwanwoong lies, because he kind of was, at least for the general standards at the time. He was a minor with a range not even experienced actors had, and being aware of that as much as he was conscious of his shortcomings was what made him stand out in his craft.

Geonhak laughs, bright and unrestrained — a comfortable, beautiful laugh that rings inside Hwanwoong’s ears even after it stops. They’re close enough now that he gets to see the softer, sweeter sides of Geonhak. It’s appreciated when someone is nice to everyone, when they’re polite and helpful and likable, but he’s somehow even warmer towards the people he loves, his friends, his family, his boyfriend. 

Liking Seoho isn’t new, for Hwanwoong. Your first love doesn’t go away easily, and even if they hadn’t crossed ways again, there would be a part of his heart that would stop at the mention of Seoho’s name. They had a bond, a friendship, too — liking him could be inconvenient, could hurt, could make him vulnerable, yet it was something Hwanwoong became used to.

Liking Geonhak, though, is a whirlwind. Getting to know him, getting to receive from him while unable to give back, is borderline painful.

Hwanwoong excuses himself from the living room to get some ice cream, in hopes it’ll soothe what’s burning inside him, the all-consuming flames of wanting too much.

...

A new year comes.

Keonhee is still his roommate, the closest thing Hwanwoong has to a best friend. Chanhee still cooks for them from time to time, Changmin still keeps them up to date with gossip, Juyeon still takes long to understand their inside jokes, Kevin still brings his sketchbook to the most unusual facilities. Yonghoon still gives him advice, which teachers to avoid and which teachers to approach. Hwanwoong’s parents still hope he’ll bring home _anyone_ , at this point. Geonhak and Seoho still make sure to keep Hwanwoong close, almost as if he’s going to disappear in thin air. 

(Hwanwoong wonders if Seoho ever told Geonhak about their falling out — if Geonhak had forgiven him regardless, or if he’s simply unaware.)

Some things change, though. Hwanwoong does his first actual play, a recommendation by one of his teachers. She told him there was a really promising production doing auditions and they’d benefit from having someone on the cast with his skills — he only ends up landing a supporting character role, but his parents come to watch him and they look almost proud of their son, even if his mom does complain about how flashy the outfits were. His friends are in the audience, too, the ones from college and the ones from high school — Hwanwoong reminds himself to get in touch with them more often or else Seungkwan will nag him on social media. Seoho couldn’t come because of work but Geonhak was there, congratulated him and promised to take him for lunch as soon as he was free.

Despite his love life falling apart, filled up to the brim with meaningless flings and deflecting from his emotions, Hwanwoong has the impression he changed for the best. He feels ready to take on sophomore life, to face whatever it brings him.

So. A new year comes, and with it, comes Son Dongju.

“He’s really pretty,” Seoho comments, which is surprising enough. It’s surprising he’s here in the first place, because he always either skips the first week of school or solely attends classes and goes home. Socializing with freshmen isn’t an interest of his, ever.

He’s right, though. Dongju is a freshman who looks like he’s come straight out of a music show, big deer eyes and heart-shaped lips and a deep laugh that doesn’t suit his flowery looks in the slightest, but it gives him all the more charm. Hwanwoong can see the appeal, would be interested had he not been head over heels with the man standing next to him and his buff significant other. 

Keonhee kept his promise from last year and became a member of the welcoming committee. It’s amusing, because he’s very enthusiastic about everything, about meeting new people and giving them know-hows and making friends, while Chanhee stares daggers at any freshman who dares to flirt with him. Hwanwoong knows deep inside his bones poor Chanhee wouldn’t have bothered to even go to school during orientation week if Changmin and Keonhee didn’t physically drag him out of bed, too.

“My name’s Son Dongju,” he introduces himself on the first day, his voice a low cadence that makes Minnie do a double take “I’m eighteen. I’ve been taking acting classes since I was a kid but my parents thought it’d be good if I could get myself a diploma, and I agreed, because I wanted to see if this is all really like American Pie.”

Everyone laughs. “What if I told you it’s nothing like that at all?” Geonhak asks, a smile tugging at his lips. 

“I’d be glad!” Dongju makes a face “I hate that movie.”

He manages to win everyone’s favors throughout the week. He’s funny, witty, hardworking — a little shy, if anything, but he seems determined to overcome that on this new phase of his life. Keonhee adores him, Changmin is intrigued by him, Chanhee knows his name, which is a feat in itself. 

Looking back, Hwanwoong should’ve noticed a few things. 

He should’ve noticed how Seoho stuck around for the entire five days of orientation, despite thinking of it as a boring waste of time. He should’ve noticed how Geonhak spent an unnatural amount of time making sure Dongju was set and comfortable, way more than he did with the other freshmen.

However, Geonhak does that. He’s too much of an introvert to be exceptionally kind and helpful to everyone so he chooses the person he clicks with the best and makes an attempt to grow closer to them. Plus there’ll never be a creature on earth able to decode Lee Seoho’s reasons for anything. He’s too much of a inconstant Gemini to psychoanalyze.

That’s all Hwanwoong thought it was: Geonhak being his usual self, going out of his way to welcome someone new, and Seoho being his usual self, unpredictable and chaotic and a little bored. 

Until Friday night came around.

…

You never know when the earth is going to open under you and swallow you alive. 

What precedes an accident is always the promise of normalcy. The party was flowing like every other party Hwanwoong had attended this past year — drinks galore, clumsy dancing and making out with near strangers. Him and Keonhee were talking to Giwook, a freshman with pastel colored hair, complimenting him in a cheerful manner that had everything to do with them being inebriated. The boy’s cheeks glow red under the moonlight, bashful, and he compliments them back. Their antics last until Hwanwoong feels his throat going dry, and he asks Keonhee to go with him to the kitchen to get more beer.

When they get there, they’re not alone. 

It’s a scenario that builds itself slowly. First, Seoho, leaning against the kitchen counter with a bewildered look in his eyes. Second, Dongju crashing against him, his back against Seoho’s chest, his hands on Dongju’s sides, holding him into place. Third, Geonhak pressed up against them and kissing Dongju on the lips, hungry and greedy.

The three of them. Kissing eachother. Together.

Hwanwoong doesn’t have time to react before Keonhee gasps, a sharp intake of breath that draws the attention from all three people in the room.

Dongju looks at Keonhee. Geonhak and Seoho look at Hwanwoong. 

“Um,” Keonhee blurts out, eloquently. He holds Hwanwoong’s wrist and drags him out of the house before everyone else can react, breaking out in a fit of giggles.

Hwanwoong is still in a state of shock, drunk and appalled, but he’s rational enough to slap his roommate across the head. “What’s wrong with you?”

“Dude! This is a good thing!” Keonhee says, laughing. They must look insane, screaming in the middle of the sidewalk, and a small part of Hwanwoong feels like he’ll remember this warmly one day. 

The part of him that’s not freaking out, that is. “How? They were _kissing him_.” 

“They’re in _an open relationship_ ,” Keonhee enunciates his words as careful as a drunk man could muster “If you weren’t a _pussy,_ this could’ve been _you_!”

Hwanwoong shivers as it flashes inside his head, the vivid image of what he has just seen.

The kissing. The holding. The touching. Something nasty twists inside him. “Well. What can I do now?”

“You still have a chance," Keonhee answers, ever the optimist. He can't finish his sentence, though, because Geonhak is leaving the house, too, his steps serious, reluctant.

He walks up to them, stares straight into Hwanwoong's soul. His eyes are sad. Why are his eyes sad? "Can we talk?"

Keonhee has already bolted back to the party without saying a word. Hwanwoong wishes he could do the same. "Sure. What do you wanna talk about?"

"How much did you see?" Geonhak asks. Might be the alcohol speaking, but his voice seems even lower.

"Don't worry about me," Hwanwoong says, tries to sound reassuring instead of weak and uncertain "I'm not judgemental. I mean, I am, but not about this."

If anything, Geonhak looks even more stressed. "Did you know… Did you know that we…?"

Hwanwoong shakes his head. "Thought you guys were _monogamous_ . Is that how you say it? Such a difficult word. You should go back there. Don't let _Lee Seoho_ steal your man."

"You are so drunk," Geonhak chuckles, though his expression doesn't relax. "I'm sorry for not telling you, then."

"You shouldn't apologize," Hwanwoong smiles wryly. He's bitter, he sounds bitter, and he shouldn't be "You owe me nothing."

Hwanwoong doesn't even notice they are this close until Geonhak's hands are on the small of his waist, his sweet, intoxicating smell all over. "I owe you more than you think."

Hwanwoong feels his chest growing tight and his heart beating giddy and he needs to back off before he does anything rash and stupid. He steps away from Geonhak's embrace with a grimace. 

"Go back there. They're waiting for you."

…

Hwanwoong is a planner.

Rare are the occasions where he does not have a plan. He's always two steps ahead, thinking about the best case scenarios and the worst case scenarios, examining every chance, every possibility. He's an overthinker to a fault, a paranoid, retreating, nitpicking Virgo. If Plan A goes wrong, he has a Plan B and a Plan C and a Plan D waiting to be used.

However.

Right now, he has no idea how to fix his poor excuse of a love life.

After the welcoming committee party, he pulls out his most convincing excuses to not meet Geonhak and Seoho at all - family dinner on Saturday, babysitting on Sunday, working extra hours on Monday, studying with Keonhee on Tuesday, memorizing lines for an audition on Wednesday, rehearsing for the audition with Changmin on Thursday, actually doing the audition on Friday. They must be suspicious he's avoiding them. Seoho hasn't sent Hwanwoong death threats in terrifying detail yet, though, so he figures he's good.

He's just… not ready to face them.

Not only because of what he saw, of the embarrassingly heated desires it had awaken inside him, but also because he doesn't know what the fuck to _do_.

If Hwanwoong comes forward with his feelings, if he reveals every single ridiculously pink and gleaming emotion bubbling under his skin, there's the chance they'll reject him. They'll reject him not because they're not polyamorous, but because they don't like him.

And he'll have to see them fawning over how cute and smart and talented Dongju is instead. See them fooling around at parties, snuggling and laughing and exchanging tipsy, lovesick stares.

"Hwanwoong," Keonhee begins, sounds like he's about to commit first degree murder "You'll change out of these pitiful, terrible pajamas and you'll get ready to go to this party now."

Hwanwoong sticks out his tongue. "You can't make me."

Youngjo's birthday party was this Saturday. He decided to rent a place, since their apartment is quite small for the amount of friends he has, and he sent Hwanwoong a text message inviting him and his "cute roommate". The cute roommate in question would love to go, never one to refuse drinks and food for free, but Hwanwoong wants to stay at the dorms since his parents are away for the weekend.

"If you don't go, I'll tell them myself," Keonhee crosses his arms, challenging "I'll get on the first bus there and I'll walk up to them and say it."

Hwanwoong squints at him. "You wouldn't."

"You're right, I wouldn't," Keonhee sits at the tip of his bed, massages his temples "But c'mon, babe, think a little. You're not that stupid."

"Not stupid at all!" Hwanwoong cries, offended.

Keonhee ignores him. "Let's get inside their heads, yeah? We're a hot, available polyamorous couple."

Hwanwoong scrunches his nose in disgust. "Ew."

"Fuck you, let me finish," Keonhee slaps him in the arm, frustrated "So. We're a polyamorous couple, and we keep asking this guy to go out with us. _Only_ him, mind you. Not him and a friend, not him and a couple of acquaintances. _Only him_ , to what otherwise would be a couple date. Do we want to fuck him or not?"

Hwanwoong sighs. "We're not always alone. Youngjo is there, too, when I go to their place."

Keonhee puts his hands on his waist. "Only him and the dude who lives with us and pays rent so we can't kick him out. _Do we want to fuck him or not_?"

"This is a set up," Hwanwoong croaks out, his resolve to not leave the house starting to crumble. 

Maybe it's Keonhee's optimism rubbing off on him, but Hwanwoong revisits some memories. The way Seoho looked at him three years ago at a high school stage, in a way too heartfelt to be rehearsed. The way Geonhak ran to him that night, worried about whether Hwanwoong would have the wrong impression, about whether he'd be hurt, betrayed. The way they pull Hwanwoong close when even he hates himself, when he wants to run away, spare them from having to deal with him. They way they say, without words, _we're here_. 

_We won't let you go_. 

_We cherish you_.

_We love you_.

Hwanwoong walks into the party and congratulates Youngjo cheerfully, thinking he might have a chance after all. Youngjo is wearing all designer clothes and a Disney princesses birthday hat, which is the embodiment of his personality.

Hwanwoong takes a deep breath, trying to calm his nerves. He can do it.

Except he sees Geonhak and Seoho sitting at the bar, arguing passionately about something probably meaningless, and his courage flies out the window.

"I can't do it," Hwanwoong turns to Keonhee, the burden of his hammering heart too heavy to carry alone "I'm gonna die."

Keonhee rolls his eyes. "You won't die."

"I'm gonna get dumped," Hwanwoong whispers. Seoho spots him first, waves at him with a blinding grin, genuinely happy to see him there. Geonhak doesn’t greet him with such enthusiasm, but he gives a small, gentle smile of his own.

Hwanwoong feels _sick_. 

“Woongie, look at me,” Keonhee says, serious, and holds Hwanwoong’s hands. It’s a comforting touch, one they’ve shared countless times ever since they met each other “I’m doing this for your own good.”

Hwanwoong yelps in surprise as Keonhee physically pulls him to the direction of the bar, using an amount of strength you wouldn’t be able to tell he had inside him. Hwanwoong doesn’t want to make a scene, not in front of so many unknown people, but he wants to scream and run away and blink out of existence. Keonhee only stops when they’re right in front of Geonhak and Seoho, with the determination of a man in a mission. “He wants to tell you guys something.”

Seoho raises his eyebrows, not the usual shadow of laughter painted on his face. “What happened?”

Hwanwoong doesn’t know much about History, but this must be what Julius Caesar felt before Brutus stabbed him. “Um, nothing.”

“Doesn’t seem like nothing,” Geonhak states, not unkindly. Never unkindly. 

Keonhee nods. “It’s not nothing.”

Hwanwoong wants him to shut the fuck up so bad, he’s never been so understanding of serial killers’ murderous intent before.

“If you’re shy, we can go upstairs,” Seoho suggests, always with the logical solution “Youngjo gave us keys to one of the guest rooms.”

“Yeah. Would you feel better saying it somewhere private?” Geonhak asks, softly. 

Hwanwoong can’t find his words, so he nods. 

There’s no getting away from this. He squares his shoulders and follows them upstairs with the same mindset he uses before he goes on stage, which is thinking of nothing. Losing himself. 

Geonhak and Seoho sit on the bed and Hwanwoong sits on the armchair in front of them. If he gets rejected, he’d rather keep as much of a distance between them as possible, lest he needs to make a hasty exit. God knows he has perfected those over the years.

Hwanwoong bites his lower lip too hard before he starts talking. “Sorry for interrupting your party. I don’t wanna take long… I don’t know where to start.”

“Take your time,” Geonhak says. He’s starting to get impatient, judging by the way he’s tapping his feet on the ground, but he doesn’t want to seem pushy. 

Hwanwoong _is_ slippery, so he appreciates the thoughtfulness. “Are you guys dating Dongju?”

“Not really,” Seoho answers “We only kissed him that one time. Didn’t touch him after you guys saw us.”

Hwanwoong frowns. He hadn’t expected this. “Why?”

“We were deflecting,” Seoho smiles. It’s humorless, dry, contrite “We were trying to move on, because the person we actually like is sending mixed signals. Doesn’t seem like he’s interested.”

Hwanwoong’s heart stops dead in his chest. “Huh?”

“Hwanwoong,” Geonhak drawls his name out, his voice raspy “Playing dumb doesn’t suit you.”

Hwanwoong feels like he’s hearing that a lot these past days. “I- It’s me?”

Seoho nods. Geonhak just stares at him — a beckoning, a challenge. 

Hwanwoong stands up and sits in between them. This moment’s what he’s been dreaming of, what he’s been telling himself would never happen. He feels like he has super hearing, now, and it’s attuned to their every movement, their every breath, and his senses go on overload when Geonhak turns to him first. He’s serious as he places one hand on Hwanwoong’s thigh, the other on the back of his neck.

(Seoho is holding his breath from behind them.)

Hwanwoong's lips part ever so slightly, but it's enough for Geonhak to kiss the living daylights out of him. 

Hwanwoong sighs into the kiss, melts into Geonhak's touch, into the way he's strong and firm yet gentle and tender. He holds Hwanwoong like it's the only thing he's ever planned on doing, draws noises out of him only to swallow them with his lips. 

When they part, Hwanwoong finally finds his words. "You're so hot."

Geonhak laughs, too, one hand still cupping Hwanwoong's cheek. "Is that all you're gonna say?"

Seoho snickers from behind them and Hwanwoong turns to him, watches how his eyes sparkle, how his lips curl into a bright, peaceful smile "Who are you laughing at?"

"You," Seoho replies, simply, and Hwanwoong doesn't hesitate to kiss the annoying smirk out of his face, something he should've done ages ago. 

Seoho's less of a fire set ablaze, more of a sea breeze. He's playful, he bites and pulls and giggles and he's warm, so Hwanwoong touches him more, maps out the extension of his back, feels how his stomach tenses at the touch. 

They move slower because they're both slippery, both avoidant to a fault, and Geonhak is the natural force that brings them together.

"If we're gonna do this..." Hwanwoong hates to be the bearer of bad news but he needs to make his terms clear, now "It'll have to be serious. To me, this means something. You guys… mean something to me. A lot. I'm not good at feelings and relationships and shit, but I wanna try this."

Seoho holds one of his hands, a perpetual smile stuck to his face. Geonhak holds the other, rubs circles around it with his thumb. "We'll have whatever you want to give us, Hwanwoongie."

_Everything_ , Hwanwoong thinks, dizzy, _I'll give you everything_.

...

**Author's Note:**

> yeah. sick, isn't it. i REALLY am not satisfied with how this turned out lmao but i hope... if anything... i could make you laugh? fdklçjlkjf if you somehow miraculously liked this i would encourage you to comment! make your girl happy! yeah. this is so DORKY oh my god. 
> 
> a HUGE thanks for the prompter & for my friends who helped me get through this in one piece (specifically this one goes for my emotional support hag because without her this, and most of my works, wouldn't be finished at all, let alone posted <3)
> 
> hmu at @0309line on twitter if you wanna scream over seodowoong!


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